


The Full Monty

by CoffeeKristin



Category: Hockey RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bondage, Cock & Ball Torture, Edgeplay, Exhibitionism, First Time, Gay For You, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2018-10-21 08:54:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10681959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeKristin/pseuds/CoffeeKristin
Summary: Patrick's not into dick. And he’s definitely not into someone tying him up and playing with his dick until he’s a sobbing mess. So he can’t even begin to explain how he ended up on an x-tube channel, obsessively watching video after video of a guy damn near torture other men until they’re trembling, sweating and gasping, pleading to be allowed to come.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [Gay Porn Hard.](http://the4freedoms.tumblr.com/post/159695831061/gay-porn-hard) It's unbeta'd, mostly unedited, probably full of errors and certainly bad BDSM etiquette, so if you're reading this to figure out how to BDSM, don't. Fair warning, as of this posting, it's not finished, has no plot, and I have no idea where it's going or when we might get there, but I'm figuring comments and feedback will probably help kick my ass into gear to actually finish it. Whatever "finishing it" means, lol.
> 
> Basically, this is a "read at your own risk" situation. :)
> 
> Also, I apologize for the shocking lack of porn in the first chapter; clearly I let the whole team down. Chapter Two will definitely have capital P porn.

Listen, first things first: Patrick is not into dick.

At age twenty-seven, he’s a confirmed and committed heterosexual, and he’s never had a single thought about another man. He’s definitely not into dick.

Well, not into any dick other than his own, obviously. He loves his dick; it’s long, and thick, and has a slight left curve and according to his ex-girlfriends, he’s pretty good with it. And he’s as vanilla as they come; his favorite position is missionary, he’s never done anal, he loves eating girls out, he always uses a condom. No kinks, no college experimenting, no pegging. He likes sex the old-fashioned way: boy fucks girl, the end.

He’s just not into dick. And he’s definitely not into someone tying him up and playing with his dick until he’s a sobbing mess, begging to come.

So he can’t even begin to explain how he ended up on an x-tube channel, obsessively watching video after video of a guy damn near torture other men until they’re trembling, sweating and gasping, pleading to be allowed to come.

But it’s four thirty in the morning, and his dick is chafed from how often he’s jerked off. So. Apparently he’s a tiny bit less vanilla than he’s always thought. And possibly not as straight.

The channel that he’s exhaustively watched is the work of a man who calls himself Tazer19; he never shows his face in the videos, never speaks, but the sight of his thick, muscular thighs and long delicate fingers tracing the head of a reddened, leaking dick in the video that’s currently playing have Patrick’s own cock making a valiant -- if futile -- effort to get hard for the sixth or seventh time tonight.

Later he blames it being four thirty in the morning, or being high on endorphins and possibly a little stoned for what happens when he reads that Tazer19 is located in Chicago, and “always looking for new cocks to play with, so hit me up if you want the most intense experience of your life.” It’s like a siren call to Patrick, and when Tazer19’s account shows that he’s “online now,” it feels like a sign. Without thinking it through, Patrick makes his own account -- PK88 -- and messages Tazer.

_PK88:_ Hi  
_PK88:_ I’m Pat

There’s a pause, and Patrick’s about to smack his head at how lame he sounds when his computer dings.

_Tazer19:_ Hi, Pat. I’m Tazer  
_Tazer19:_ What’s up?

Patrick’s frozen in front of his keyboard, the little spacer in the reply box blinking at him. Patrick chews his lip, unsure what to say before whispering, “fuck it,” and typing out what he’s been thinking all night.

_PK88:_ Your videos are intense, man

  
_Tazer19:_ Thank you  
_Tazer19:_ I try

Patrick’s cheeks flame -- the dry derision in the reply is clear, and it makes Patrick squirm in his seat.

_Tazer19:_ Do you have a favorite video? Favorite kink?  
_Tazer19:_ The edging? The polishing? The restraints?

He must take too long because another message pops up.

_Tazer19:_ Tell me what you liked the most, Pat

The little cursor blinks at him, and Patrick types out his response slowly, hands shaking a little.

_PK88:_ I liked it when you made them cry

There’s a delay and what he gets back makes his flush deepen.

_Tazer19:_ I like making someone cry

Patrick swallows, his breath coming shorter.

_PK88:_ I noticed  
_PK88:_ You’re really fucking good at it LOL

When Tazer19 doesn't reply, Patrick asks the question that's been dogging him all night.

_PK88:_ But why would someone want you to make them cry?  
_PK88:_ I mean, no judgment, just curious

  
_Tazer19:_ Just curious, huh?

There's a pause, and what Tazer19 says makes Patrick wish he _could_ get it up again.

_Tazer19:_ The crying’s the best part because it means I’ve pushed someone to their limits. Farther than even they thought they could go  
_Tazer19:_ It’s a fucking rush

Patrick types out a response and hits return before he can reconsider.

_PK88:_ I live in Chicago

Ten minutes later, he’s made plans to meet Tazer at Lucky Strike in Lincoln Park at one o’clock that afternoon. He stares at the last message Tazer sent him for a long time before finally closing his laptop and closing his eyes.

_Tazer19:_ I bet you look pretty when you cry. Hope you let me find out


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE BE PORN. May it appease the hockey gods...

Patrick sleeps fitfully until late morning, dreaming about giant skyscrapers that come alive and chase him around the streets of Buffalo. He eventually climbs on top of a rocketship and rides it like a horse until he lands in Chicago, where the Sears Tower is bearing down on him when he jerks awake, his heart pounding. It’s almost noon, but he’s still exhausted from his late night, so he rolls over and is just drifting back to sleep when his eyes pop open at the memory of exactly why he’d been up so late the night before.

He groans and pulls the covers over his head, screaming into his pillow. It only makes his head pound, though, either from lack of caffeine or the late night, or both, so he forces himself out of bed and into the shower. Two cups of coffee later, unfortunately, all he can think about his looming date with Tazer19 to explore his new-found latent masochistic -- _”and gay! Don’t forget gay,” his inner voice reminds him ruthlessly_ \-- sexual interests. And said date is in -- he checks the clock on his microwave -- an hour.

He’s late enough leaving the house that he hails a cab instead of taking the bus, and spends the time riding to Lincoln Park chewing his nails and second-guessing himself. What the fuck was he thinking, falling down a gay BDSM Xtube channel and arranging a meet up ( _”hook up,” that stupid voice corrects unhelpfully_ ) with some kind of internet Dom?

Patrick’s been accused of being impulsive before by his sisters, his girlfriends, his parents. Even his boss complains that one day the firm isn’t going to be able to rely on Sharpy’s “good looks and better hair to pull your shit out of the fire next time, Kaner,” when Patrick’s put too much money into a commodity future that didn’t pan out and needs cover with investors. And don’t get him started on the shit he used to do with his college buddies. The less said about those days, the better.

He just loves the thrill of doing new things, the shivery anticipation of being at the top of a roller coaster and hanging over the edge right before it plummets to the bottom of the hill. And if he gets in over his head once in awhile, he’s always been lucky enough that he’s had friends or a guardian angel or something to keep him from getting into too much trouble. But this -- this is beyond the pale, even for him, and he wonders if he’s finally pushed too far, if this is going to be the thing that trips him up. The worry isn’t enough to stop him from going, though, so eventually he stops worrying and let's himself give in to the thrum of anticipation that’s been building since he woke up, which is also a pretty effective way to combat the last of his anxieties.

There’s a back-up on Clybourne so he pays the cab driver and runs the final half mile. When he finally arrives, he’s fifteen minutes later than he’d wanted to be, covered in sweat and suddenly a little sick with nerves, so he stops to take a deep breath to try to regain a little of his composure before going in.

The bar is empty except for one frat-boy type sitting in a corner booth, scrolling through his phone. He’s wearing a backwards baseball cap and nursing a beer, and he looks up at Patrick who nods and turns to the bartender to see if anyone came in looking for him.

“Pat?” The guy calls, and, well. To say this guy doesn’t meet Patrick’s expectations is an understatement. He’s wearing an obscenely loose tank top, the kind Patrick’s only ever seen at the beach, board shorts, and flipflops.

Yeah, there’s no way this college-age douchebag is Tazer19.

Except for the way the muscles of his thighs bunch and flex as he rises from the booth and walks over to Patrick, who feels his cheeks heat at the memory of watching those same thighs strain as he held a guy in place while he --

“Are you Pat?”

Patrick snaps back to the present to find the guy -- Tazer, obviously -- looking at him quizzically. When he nods dumbly, Tazer smiles, and Patrick realizes the guy’s older than he looks, probably about Patrick’s age. Small laugh lines appear around his eyes and somehow that’s enough to shake Patrick out of his silent stupor.

“Yeah, I’m Pat. You Tazer?” Patrick sticks out his hand when Tazer nods.

“Shit, man, call me Jonny, Tazer’s just for the internet,” he says, “You want a beer?” He calls to the bartender for two more at Patrick’s nod, then leads him over to the booth.

The bartender brings the beers almost immediately, and Patrick takes a long pull from his, Jonny watching him carefully. “You like it?”

“It’s great,” Patrick says honestly. “Who makes it?”

“Two Brothers Brewery. It’s local, been around for about twenty years,” Jonny says. “This one’s Prairie Path -- gluten-free, locally sourced, and organic. They’re really committed to sustainable production.”

Patrick listens absently as Jonny earnestly explains all the ways Two Brothers is changing the world one organic beer at a time, fascinated to watch his lips move, to finally hear his voice. The videos Jonny posts show nothing of his face -- he wears the ugliest mismatched plaid shirt and boxer shorts Patrick’s seen, and that’s saying something, considering his own closet -- and he never speaks, even when the guy he’s working over is screaming and pleading with him to stop, or for more, or just moaning wordlessly.

Jonny’s fingers run up and down the neck of his bottle before he picks it up to take another drink, and Patrick chokes a little on the swig of beer in his own mouth, remembering what he’s watched those fingers do. Repeatedly.

Jonny frowns at Patrick as he coughs. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Patrick rasps, then watches as Jonny’s eyes dart down to where he’s licking a few drops of beer off his lips. When Jonny looks back up, their eyes catch and hold, and then Jonny’s darken.

“Yeah?” Jonny says, voice deeper, and fuck if that doesn’t go straight to Patrick’s cock. “I think -- “

“I’m not gay!” Patrick interrupts, practically shouting, startling himself and making Jonny jump. He says it loud enough that the bartender glances up, an unfriendly look on her face. Patrick flushes. “I mean, uh, no offense, but I’m not gay.”

Jonny just stares at him, unimpressed. “Uh huh. So, if you’re not gay, what are we doing here?” His tone is flat, but Jonny’s eyes have gone a little stormy and guarded. “Is this a game to you or something?”

Patrick shifts a little, sweat breaking out again, but a cold sweat this time, and he takes another drink to stall for more time to answer. When Jonny makes an impatient noise and moves to stand up, Patrick puts out a hand to stop him. “Wait, wait, I’m trying to… Fuck.” He runs a shaking hand through his hair and Jonny leans back in his seat again, waiting.

“I don’t know,” Patrick finally says, and it must sound unsure and plaintive enough that Jonny’s expression softens a little. “Honestly, I’m not gay, I’ve never even looked at the guy’s cock when I’m watching porn!”

“Sure you haven’t,” Jonny drawls.

“Fine, fine, okay, I guess I’ve looked sometimes, but mostly for comparison or because it’s right there, but, I really -- I’m honestly not into dick.”

“Okay,” Jonny draws the word out slowly. “Wanna explain how a not-gay guy finds himself jacking off all night to my exclusively gay, male xtube channel?”

“I don’t know, man,” Patrick says, leaning forward so he can thunk his head on the table repeatedly, because this is just all too much suddenly. “I think you broke something in me.”

Jonny makes a scoffing sound and puts his hand out so that the next time Patrick ends up with Jonny’s hand on his forehead instead of hitting the table. “Stop it, Pat.” There’s a hint of strength in his voice, and it makes heat bloom in Patrick’s belly. “Sit up and talk to me like an adult.”

“Ugh, fine,” Patrick sits up, rubbing at his forehead. “This is so hard.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” Jonny replies evenly. “You keep saying you’re not gay, but here you are, meeting up with me to talk about having sex. So forget about labels. Let’s just start with what you liked about my videos. And how you found them.”

And, well, the second is a lot less embarrassing to explain than the first, so: “I was googling straight porn and the search brought back one of your videos.”

“What was the search?” Jonny asks, head tilted.

Oh, maybe the second is just as embarrassing as the first. Patrick shifts a little. “Uh. _Nipple ecstasy?_ ” He blushes. “And I guess I accidently clicked the button for “gay” instead of “straight” on the search engine or something because suddenly my choices were all guys getting their nipples played with, and the first one had a guy with these huge fucking, like, clothespin things on them, and I was like, no way is that real, so I clicked on it.”

“Oh,” Jonny says, gaze going distant. “The one with the red clamps?” He smiles nostalgically. “That was a great session, that guy’s pain threshold was insane.” He stares into the distance for another beat before focusing back on Patrick. “Into nipples, huh?” He glances down at Patrick’s shirt and Patrick has to fight the urge to cover his chest.

“Other people’s nipples,” Patrick clarifies, but when Jonny looks up, the dark, hungry look from earlier is back in his eyes. “And just, you know. The ones on girls. And definitely not the ones squeezed into tiny strips of pink flesh like the ones in that video.”

Jonny doesn’t look convinced, but he’s also not staring at Patrick’s chest anymore, just looking at him quizzically. “Okay, you were just curious, so you watched it, and…”

“And, I don’t know, once you put them on I just couldn’t click away? He was making the most obscene noises, like he was dying. And then,” Patrick swallows thickly. “And then you got out that paint brush, and that’s it, that’s all she wrote. And then he came so hard, it made me… you know. And then I don’t know,” Patrick says a little helplessly. “I just… I wanted to see more.”

“What’d you watch next?” Jonny’s voice is deeper but he’s not pushing, he’s just looking at Patrick, and that’s doing it for him, being the focus of all that attention. “Another nipple torture one?”

“No, the one,” Patrick has to take a drink of his beer to clear the frog from his throat. “The one where you squeezed the guys balls in a vice? And man, that’s so not for me -- “

“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it,” Jonny interjects casually, like he’s still talking about his favorite beers or a recommending a gym, not using a torture device to flatten someone testicles.

“Dude,” Patrick says dryly. “I am _not_ letting you put my nuts in a fucking vice.”

“Hey, your loss,” Jonny shrugs. “It’s definitely intense; not everyone can handle it.”

Patrick snorts. “You can’t double-dog-dare me into that shit. I have zero interest in seeing my ball sac look like a freaking pancake.”

“First of all, you wouldn’t be able to see,” Jonny says. “Blindfolded, gagged, tied up and at my mercy, remember?”

“Oh my God,” Patrick whispers, feeling his cock stir. “That’s, that’s -- “

“Mmm hmm.” Jonny tilts his head to one side. “What if I just used my hands?”

Patrick’s eyes drop involuntarily to Jonny’s hand on the table, and he watches as Jonny curls his fingers into a fist. He must make a little noise because Jonny reaches across the table, taking Patrick’s thumb in a firm grip and squeezing, his hands big and dry and strong enough that Patrick’s gonna embarrass himself by whimpering.

“See, I don’t need a vice,” Jonny says quietly, releasing the pressure around Patrick’s thumb and then softly stroking over the now-throbbing digit. He runs his index finger up and down so lightly that it tickles a little, and Patrick can’t help shivering. “And I like being gentle, too.”

“I like your hands,” Patrick admits hoarsely, swallowing around his suddenly thick tongue.

“Do you?” Jonny holds one up and considers it, then places it back on the table next to Patrick’s. It’s larger than Patrick’s hand and pale, the fingers long and delicate. “I honestly like working with my hands better than using toys or tools.”

“So why the vice and the, the other stuff?” Patrick asks, swallowing hard.

“Eh, mostly for the viewers,” Jonny says. He takes Patrick’s hand in his again, measuring them against each other. Patrick’s hand is broader and flatter, the finger’s thick and the nails chewed off, and it makes Jonny’s look almost elegant. “Those videos always get more hits. And some guys just really want the bells and whistles. Probably watching too much Shot Gun Video when they were younger.”

“Shot Gun Video?” Patrick asks. Jonny sighs and gently places Patrick’s hand back on the table.

“You really are new to all of this, huh?” Jonny sits back with a frown. “I’ve gotta say, I’m starting to think this wasn’t a good idea.”

“What?” Patrick squawks. And, yeah, _he’s_ not sure this is a good idea, but why the hell is Jonny not jumping at the chance to show him the ropes, so to speak? “I’m a freaking BDSM virgin -- you gotta eat that shit up! A _straight_ BDSM virgin!”

Jonny snorts. “Yeah, this isn’t like you popping some girl’s cherry. I’m really not interested in some horny college kid who wants to experiment,” Jonny says, “and can’t even tell me what he wants.”

“I’m not a college kid,” Patrick protests. “I’m twenty eight, I’m a trader on the Mercantile Exchange, and -- “ He trails off.

“And,” Jonny prompts.

“And I know what I want.”

“So tell me.”

“I want to know what it feels like,” Patrick confesses, his voice barely a whisper. Jonny leans forward, his hand closing over Patrick’s again and Patrick turns his palm up and slots their fingers together, holding on tight.

“Tell me,” Jonny prompts. “It’s safe. I won’t judge you.”

“What you do to those guys -- I can’t stop thinking about it, wondering about it. Being tied down, blindfolded, unable to stop you. I just… I want…” He swallows. “You.”

“That’s good, Pat,” Jonny says, squeezing his fingers a little. “That’s really good.” The praise makes a warmth sweep through Patrick, and he realizes he’s half hard just from the sound of Jonny’s voice and the conversation.

“Is that -- “ Patrick coughs to clear his suddenly thick throat. “Is that something you’d be interested in, too?”

Jonny cocks his head to one side, consideringly. “How about we work up to it.”

“Huh?”

“I have an idea,” Jonny says, and now his voice has dropped and Patrick has to lean forward to hear him over the table. “Are you hard?”

“Uh,” Patrick pauses, cheeks flaming. “Most -- mostly?”

“Good,” Jonny smirks. “I want you to go to the bathroom and jerk yourself off.”

“You want me to what?” Patrick half-screeches.

“Calm down,” Jonny instructs him firmly. “I want you to go to the bathroom and pull your cock out, jerk off until you think you’re gonna come, then stop.”

“Oh god,” Patrick croaks. “This isn’t happening. I’m stuck in some weird hallucination thanks to Sharpy’s high-potency weed.”

“Hush, Pat.” Jonny waits until Patrick’s quiet and then continues.”I want you to play with yourself until you’re about to come but stop. When you can touch yourself again without going off, I want you to do it again, only this time, I want you to play with your nipples, too. Which hand do you use to jerk off?”

“My left,” Patrick says dumbly, mind reeling, unbearably turned on just listening to Jonny spew filth matter-of-factly, as though he’s giving directions on the best way to marinate a steak.

“Good, that’s good. So I want you to push your t-shirt out of the way and pull on your nipples. Squeeze them, pinch them. Dig your fingernails into them until you can’t stand the pain, and jerk off while you’re doing it. But don’t come.” Jonny pulls out his phone. “What’s your number?”

“What?” Patrick blinks at him, not responding until Jonny’s asked him three times. Jonny types something out and then looks up at Patrick, who’s phone lights up on the table next to him.

_Tazer:_ This is Tazer  
_Tazer:_ Go to the bathroom now and get your cock out  
_Tazer:_ You have five minutes to make yourself almost come. Twice

“What is this, like, a test?” Patrick asks weakly, already scooting out of the booth.

“Yep,” Jonny says easily. “Your five minutes started ten seconds ago,” he adds with an evil grin, and Patrick -- yeah, that’s doing it for him just as much as the fingers and the thighs, and holy shit, maybe he is a little gay.

He shuffles sidewise to the bathroom, somehow avoiding eye contact with the bartender, and shuts the door, grateful to find it’s a single stall. He locks the door and looks down at his cock, straining against the zipper of his jeans. His phone buzzes as he’s unbuckling his belt.

_Tazer:_ Are you going commando? That’s so hot, Pat

Patrick rolls his eyes and taps back a “Y” then checks the time. He’s got a little less than four minutes, but seeing how turned on he is, he thinks the time limit isn’t going to get him, the order not to come is.

"What if I come?" He sends, chewing on his lip, honestly unsure what he wants the reply to be.

Jonny’s answer only takes a moment.

_Tazer:_ You won’t  
_Tazer:_ I have faith in you

And holy shit if _that_ doesn’t do it for Patrick, his cock jerking in his hand. He hurriedly puts the phone on the counter and grabs the base of his cock, squeezing a little before stroking up and down once. There are hand cream samples on the counter, and he grabs one, slicking up his left hand and starting a light up and down motion. His eyes drift closed as he loses himself in the sensation, playing Jonny’s words over in his head as his hand speeds up and his breath starts to come a little shorter.

He pauses to circle the crown every few strokes, the head sensitive as he swipes over it with his thumb, pressing into the slit. His hips start thrusting into his fist, and the motion shifts him forward enough that his cock hits the lip of the porcelain sink, the cold surface startling him into opening his eyes.

The image in the mirror shocks him.

He’s flushed and his face is gleaming with sweat, a single droplet sliding down his temple. His pants are open and his cock is jutting out, disappearing into the circle of his fist. The head is dark red, already leaking, and he moans as he adds a corkscrew motion, the sight of his fist working him over in the mirror a reminder of Jonny’s fist doing the same thing to an anonymous guy in one of his videos.

Patrick moans, the sound echoing in the small room. He bites his lip to try to keep quiet and his phone goes off, the message lighting up the darkened screen.

_Tazer:_ DON’T COME

Patrick gasps and pulls his hand off his cock, watching as it jerks and bobs in the mirror, and he has to grip the edge of the sink, pushing his cock into the cold surface to pull him back from the brink. “Jesus,” he mutters when he can finally catch his breath. “Jesus.”

_Tazer:_ Pat  
_Tazer:_ Did you stop in time?

“God, stop texting me, asshole, I don’t want jizz on my fucking phone,” Patrick bitches, then uses Siri to text the same complaint to Jonny.

_Tazer:_ Suck it up, because you’re going to take a photo of your cock for me

“No fucking way,” Patrick says.

_Tazer:_ Now, Pat  
_Tazer:_ Or I’m gonna make it three times

Patrick makes a face at the phone and grabs a hand towel, wiping off the cream before he picks up his phone. He snaps a photo of his cock, still red and wet at the tip, and texts it to Jonny before he can think about it, then waits impatiently for his reply.

_Tazer:_ That’s a very pretty cock

Patrick flushes, his cheeks burning. He knows he’s got a nice cock, objectively, but it’s another thing to have Jonny say it, somehow.

_Tazer:_ The things I could do to that cock, Pat  
_Tazer:_ You have no idea

Patrick moans at that, and let's his eyes slip shut, starting to stroke himself again. He’s making little “uh uh” noises from how good it feels when he hears his phone’s message alert and forces one eye open.

_Tazer:_ Are you squeezing your nipples?

“Fuck, asshole, do you have a fucking camera in here?” Patrick grouses, pulling up his shirt and tucking it over his head so his chest is bared. His nipples are drawn up tight in the cool air conditioning of the bathroom and he runs a finger over first one, then the other, shivering a little. When he pinches down on one, it makes his hips jerk and he catches his lip between his teeth as he squeezes harder, then harder still. He doesn’t have any fingernails to speak of, so he settles for squeezing until his nipple is burning.

The pain is so intense he doesn’t realize right away how it’s going straight to his cock, making it harden in his hand. He starts stroking himself again, the pain in his nipple morphing into pleasure so heady that he knows he won’t last much longer.

He’s just on the edge of not being able to stop when he let's go with both hands, leaning over the sink and gasping in great, heaving breaths. He realizes he’s muttering, “holy shit, holy shit,” over and over and when he looks up, his face is flushed bright red, his nipple is puffy and swollen, and his cock is so hard it’s purple.

_Tazer:_ Did you do it?  
_Tazer:_ I bet you look so pretty when you’re desperate to come

Jonny’s text comes through about fifteen seconds after Patrick pulls himself back from the brink, and he makes a face at his phone, avoiding his eyes in the mirror. He runs the water on cold and washes his hands, splashing some on his face and ignoring Jonny’s texts while he gets himself under control.

But even once he’s managed to soften enough to tuck himself back into his jeans, he still looks utterly wrecked. His face is still red and sweaty, and his lips are bitten practically bloody. He’s still got a visible erection, and even with his shirt untucked, he looks like he just got fucked in the bathroom. There’s no way the bartender and anyone else in the bar isn’t going to know what he’s been doing in here.

He tells Jonny as much and gets back:

_Tazer:_ There’s a back door  
_Tazer:_ Go left instead of right when you leave the bathroom. I’ll meet you outside

Patrick spends another minute trying to make himself look slightly less disheveled before giving up. When he turns left, he sees a small door at the end of the hall and once outside, finds Jonny leaning against the side of the building, on his phone again.

“Jesus, you couldn’t even wait a minute before you started texting someone else?” Patrick bitches.

Jonny holds up the phone wordlessly. It’s Patrick’s cock, and Jonny’s zoomed in on the head, which looks huge even on the small screen.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh_ ,” Jonny mocks gently, knocking Patrick’s shoulder a little. “Seriously man, that’s one gorgeous cock.” He runs a finger over the the slit and Patrick shivers, almost feeling the ghost of the touch. “I’d have so much fun with this.” He looks at Patrick for a long moment before pocketing his phone. “I’m gonna be jerking off to this later.”

“Guh,” Patrick says, because honestly, what’s the proper response to another guy admitting he’s gonna jerk off to a photo of your dick?

“You did really well,” Jonny says warmly, and it makes Patrick’s cheeks burn, the way his praise washes over him. It’s almost worth the blue balls he’s currently suffering.

“So I passed?”

“I don’t know,” Jonny says, looking down at Patrick’s crotch, still distended from his hard on. “Did you?”

“I didn’t come, if that’s what you’re asking,” Patrick grouses.

“I know you didn’t come,” Jonny replies, pushing off the wall. “But did you pass your own test?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Patrick frowns. “That was your fucking test, not mine!”

“Pat, this stuff, what I do, it’s not about me,” Jonny says, turning to face Patrick and then backing him up until he’s pressed into the brick wall behind him, Jonny looming over him, their chests inches apart. Jonny’s tall enough that Patrick has to tilt his head back to meet his eyes, and when he puts his hands on either side of Patrick’s arms and leans in, it makes the arousal Patrick’s been dealing with all day fire up again.

“It’s about what the guy wants, what _you_ want.” He reaches up to trace Patrick’s cheekbone with his thumb, then down to his jaw. “It’s not gay, or it doesn’t have to be. It’s about pleasure or pain, giving it, receiving it, withholding it. It’s about what gets you off, and basically what gets me off is getting other guys off.” He leans in, and whispers in Patrick’s ear. “So if this is something you want to do, with me, let me know.”

Patrick’s breathing like he ran a marathon by the time Jonny pulls back enough for their eyes to meet. Patrick reaches for him, and Jonny’s eyes widen in surprise, but it feels as natural as anything to pull Jonny’s head down so their lips meet. Jonny gasps, lips parting under Patrick’s, and Patrick’s tongue strokes out tentatively, a soft exploratory motion that has Jonny moaning. His mouth opens under Patrick’s, until Patrick’s licking inside, their tongues twining together and then Jonny’s pulling back, pushing Patrick back, holding him away a little as he pants.

“What -- what are you doing?”

“What I want,” Patrick says, breaking Jonny’s hold and pulling him closer so he can bite at Jonny’s lower lip. Jonny’s mouth opens under his again, and they kiss for long moments, Patrick dimly cataloguing the ways that this is different from all the other kisses he’s ever had -- the stubble, the way Jonny’s body feels hard against his where Patrick’s only ever felt something soft and yielding, the strength of the arms Jonny’s wrapped around Patrick, and the answering stiffness of his cock as it slots into alignment with Patrick’s.

Jonny pushes back as Patrick thrusts against him, and it doesn’t take long before Patrick’s just panting into Jonny’s mouth as he comes in his jeans, seeing stars behind his closed eyelids as the build-up from earlier finally rushes through him. It’s the longest, most intense orgasm he’s ever had and it leaves him shaking and clinging to Jonny, who pets him gently.

“That was amazing,” Jonny says, his voice awed.

“Did you come, too?” Patrick asks a little dumbly, because he didn’t think Jonny had, but honestly, he doesn’t have the first clue.

“No, not me -- I meant watching you,” Jonny says, pulling back to look at him. “Your face. Jesus. That was… that was…”

“Amazing?” Patrick asks dopily and Jonny laughs.

“Yeah, that’s a good word for it.” He tips Patrick’s face up and kisses him gently. “Thank you.”

Patrick flushes, as embarrassed by the raw wonder and delight on Jonny’s face as he was about the dick pic. Maybe more.

“So…Freaking out yet?” Jonny asks.

“Too come-dumb to freak out, saving it for later,” Patrick slurs, making Jonny bark out a laugh.

“Well, don’t -- you were curious, you liked it, that’s it. It’s just orgasms.”

“Just orgasms,” Patrick agrees, yawning. “Sure.”

“Let’s get you home,” Jonny smiles, pulling out his phone and asking Patrick for his address. He insists on riding with him and even walks Patrick up to his front door and watches him as he toes off his shoes, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Doing okay?” Jonny asks for about the fifteenth time.

“Seriously, I’m fine, man,” Patrick asserts, his face cracking around a huge yawn. “Just beat.”

“Well drink some water, and get some sleep. You might feel a little weird -- sometimes a scene can take a lot out of you, especially if you’re not used to it.”

“Scene?”

“Oh god, you’re just so new,” Jonny groans, putting his face in his hands and scrubbing at it before dropping his hands to his hips and eyeing Patrick. He looks serious enough that Patrick tries to shake off some of his exhaustion. “I’m giving you an assignment. You need to sign up for Fetlife.com and I want you to read _The New Bottoming Book_. It’s a good start for beginners; just remember that there’s no one or right way to do this -- it’s about what turns you on and what feels comfortable to you. And call me, anytime, if you have any questions.”

“Uh.” Patrick blinks at him. “Huh?”

“Ugh, forget it, I’ll just text you,” Jonny huffs. “You’re clearly useless right now.”

“Came my brains out, after an all-nighter of, oh yeah. Coming my brains out watching _you_ ,” he says, poking Jonny in the chest. He watches, fascinated, as Jonny flushes. “Are you blushing? The infamous Tazer19 with a hundred thousand subscribers, author of like nine hundred million super explicit videos? Blushing?”

“Ugh, shut up, that’s my work, not for, you know. Fun,” Jonny protests. Patrick gapes at him.

“Wait. You. That’s for _work?_ You get _paid_ for that shit?

“Uh, yeah,” Jonny frowns. “What did you think? I just did all that for fun? Jesus, I like sex as much as the next guy but come on.”

“You get paid. To have sex. On the internet.” Patrick boggles.

Jonny flushes again, looking uncomfortable. “Hey, you make it sound like I’m a sex worker,” he protests. “I don’t get paid to have sex with anyone! I just sell subscriptions to my channel.” When Patrick keeps looking confused, Jonny makes a noise. “I thought you knew all this!”

“Why would people pay to subscribe when they can watch the videos for free? That makes no sense.”

“Pat, didn’t you get an account?” Jonny asks slowly.

“Yeah, but just a free one and only to message you,” Patrick admits. “Why?”

“Because paid accounts get to see all the best stuff, the free shit is just the teaser,” Jonny says slowly.

“The free shit is just a teaser…” Patrick swallows audibly. “That -- what I saw -- that was a teaser? Holy. Ever-loving. Fuck. What the _fuck_ do you do that’s the main event, if that shit’s just a bunch of teasers?”

“Well,” Jonny says, still pink. “Guess you’re gonna have to subscribe to find out.”

They stand in the doorway for another moment, Patrick thinking about what could possibly be on the videos he’s obviously going to be paying to see, and Jonny looking unsure of himself for the first time all afternoon.

“Okay, well, this has been educational, and amazing, but I’m dead on my feet,” Patrick finally breaks the silence. “So I’m gonna go to bed now,” he says, letting his voice trail off and Jonny flushes a deeper red before stepping back so he’s in the hallway again.

“Still not freaking out?” Jonny asks, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“No,” Patrick says, drawing the word out. “Are _you_ freaking out?”

“No,” Jonny replies unconvincingly. “I just… I had fun today.” When Patrick works up enough energy to waggle his eyebrows in response, Jonny laughs, relaxing a little.

“And…” Patrick prompts, not sure why Jonny’s being so awkward all of a sudden.

“And I wondered if you wanted to get together again,” Jonny says quickly, shifting a little on his feet.

“Well, duh,” Patrick replies. “You’re like my, uh, my mentor now, right? My BDSM sensai.”

“Oh my god,” Jonny says faintly. “You’re so -- why do I think you’re hot again?”

“No honest idea, man,” Patrick admits. He knows he’s flirting, but there’s just something about Jonny that makes him want to see more of this less assured version of Jonny. “But if this is your way of asking me out again, I’m saying yes.”

“You are?” Jonny says, a smile playing around his lips. “Even though going on a date with a guy is kinda gay?”

“Well,” Patrick says. He steps forward and grabs Jonny’s hand, pulling him close enough to kiss. It’s a chaste kiss, over quickly, but it’s as hot as the ones earlier when Patrick had been desperate to come. When he pulls back, Jonny sighs a little, his eyes still closed, and Patrick feels his heart warm with fondness. “I like that, and I want to keep doing it. If you do?”

“I do,” Jonny nods, his voice husky.

“No labels, right?”

“Works for me,” Jonny agrees easily.

“So I’m gonna order the book and sign up for that Metlife thing -- “

“Fetlife, with an F, it’s not insurance,” Jonny laughs. “Fet as in fetish.”

“Oh, that makes a lot more sense,” Patrick says cheekily. “I was seriously confused about when MetLife got into the business of BDSM instruction.” Jonny rolls his eyes at him, and Patrick kicks his shin a little. “Anyway, I’mma do my homework, and you’re gonna give me another quiz. Next Friday night. You pick the place.”

“Sounds perfect,” Jonny says, grabbing Patrick’s hand and squeezing it. “Text me if you have any questions in the meantime.”

“Yes, Sensai,” Patrick teases, laughing when Jonny rolls his eyes and waves, a dorky little wave that leaves Patrick grinning while he showers and grabs a quick meal, drinking two full bottles of water.

He’s still smiling when he climbs in bed ten minutes later, images of Jonny’s pink cheeks the last thing he thinks about as he’s drifting off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another chapter without sex. I guess these boys can't just have a simple, straight-forward sexual encounter, it's gotta include feelings and longing and all that bullshit. I wrote this when I was supposed to be finishing editing my Notting Hill AU, so that's probably why it's got so much romcom nonsense in it. I apologize. I promise a lot more porn and naughtiness in the next chapter.
> 
> Comments inspire me... <3 <3 <3

Four messages come in overnight, and Patrick blinks at them blearily when he wakes up twelve hours later.

 _Tazer:_ Are you freaking out yet?

 _Tazer:_ Seriously, don’t freak out, read this: https://www.amazon.com/New-Bottoming-Book-Janet-Hardy/dp/1890159352/ and sign up for fetlife.com

 _Tazer:_ let me know if you’re still interested in exploring this, or even if you just have questions

The last message came in at midnight, hours after the others:

 _Tazer:_ I had a nice time tonight

Ironically, it’s the last message that makes Patrick call Jonny.

“I’m not freaking out,” Patrick says when Jonny answers. “And I had a nice time last night, too.”

“Oh, good, that’s good,” Jonny says after a second. He’s breathing heavily into the phone and sounds distracted. “Can I call you back?”

And, oh shit, he’s probably just interrupted Jonny while he plays bongo on someone’s ass or something. Patrick’s apologizing when Jonny stops him with a snort.

“Relax, I’m just out for a run, dude, my life isn’t twenty-four seven sex.”

“Well, how should I know! I’m a newbie at this whole S&M thing,” Patrick protests weakly, ridiculously relieved that Jonny’s not touching someone else right now. Which is weird and stupid, so he forces himself to push down the possessive flair and focus on not saying anything dumb. He shouldn’t have called Jonny before he was awake. He needs caffeine.

“Wanna get coffee after I finish running?” Jonny asks, like a fucking psychic.

“Uh,” Patrick considers whether it’s more tempting to just curl up under the covers or get dressed and go see Jonny. It’s a little disturbing how attractive Jonny’s offer is, given he hasn’t even known the guy for twenty-four hours.

“Not like a date!” Jonny rushes on, “Not for sex or anything, just. I thought you might need coffee. Unless you want it to be a date, and then. We could… uh. Make it a date?”

“God, for a guy who basically bosses people around for a living, you’re terrible at asking a guy out,” Patrick chirps, his face hurting a little with how hard he’s grinning into his phone, because Jonny wants to meet up again already. He sounds as eager as Patrick is, not to mention totally nervous that Patrick’s gonna say no. It’s adorable and hot, and Patrick hasn’t been this into anyone in years.

Well, so much for the whole “not gay” thing, Patrick thinks, but then tunes back in to what Jonny’s saying.

“Your mom didn’t think I was terrible last night.”

“Oh my god, mom jokes, really?” Patrick chortles, ridiculously charmed.

“It’s seven a.m. and I’m dripping sweat all over the sand, it’s possible I’m not at my best,” Jonny says defensively.

“Dripping sweat, huh?” Patrick lies back on his pillows, letting himself imagine Jonny’s face red and glistening. “Tell me more.”

“I’ve been running for forty minutes,” Jonny replies after a second. Patrick can picture Jonny’s eyes rolling. “And, you know. It’s really hot out already?”

“Seriously, how are you this bad at flirting?” Patrick asks, only half-joking. “Like, I’m the straight guy and _I’m_ better at flirting with men than you are.”

“I’m not bad at flirting,” Jonny says, sounding a little pissy. Patrick probably shouldn’t find it as cute as he does. “Maybe I’m just trying not to flirt with the straight guy who’s eventually gonna freak out about how he had sex with another guy yesterday.”

“That wasn’t sex,” Patrick scoffs. “Pretty sure that was basically necking and a little dry humping. By me.”

“You had an orgasm, Patrick. Sex doesn’t require penetration,” Jonny says almost primly, making Patrick laugh again. “Fuck off, you know what I mean.”

“I do,” Patrick says, pausing. “And that whole not-gay thing? I think… I’m rethinking it.”

“Good, that’s — I’m glad. If that’s what you want, that’s great.”

“Yeah.”

They’re both silent for a moment and then Jonny huffs. “Are you just gonna make fun of me all morning instead of letting me get my workout in?”

“Fine, fine.” Patrick sits up and stretches, yawning. He really does need caffeine, and soon. “Where do you want to meet?”

Patrick agrees to meet Jonny at _Intellegentsia_ in an hour, needling him a little about the pretentious name of the coffee shop before hanging up to shower.

When he’s soaping up in the shower he rolls his balls gently, imagining Jonny’s fingers tightening around them. His cock perks up at the idea and Patrick groans. He’s gonna let Jonny torture his balls, he can already tell. Just the idea makes his cock jerk, half in fear, half in anticipation. He resists jerking off, but he can’t get the image of the men from Jonny’s videos out of his head and he’s half-hard by the time he gets off the L forty-five minutes later.

Jonny looks unfairly good, his skin gleaming and tan. He’s wearing another tank top and the tightest running shorts Patrick’s ever seen. He admires the way Jonny’s ass flexes and moves as he follows him to a table, and Jonny catches him looking when he turns to sit down.

“Like what you see?” Jonny asks with a bit of pink on his cheeks that’s distracting enough that Patrick blames it for what he says.

“I’m gonna let you squeeze my balls,” Patrick blurts. He’d be mortified, but somehow he timed it perfectly, because Jonny sputters around his first sip of coffee and gets coffee all over himself and the table. Watching Jonny cough gives Patrick time to compose himself before he says anything else stupid, like how he kinda, sorta can’t wait to get his hands on Jonny’s stupidly attractive butt. He takes a big drink from his own cup just to make sure.

“Asshole,” Jonny rasps when he can speak again, and Patrick shrugs, unrepentant, handing Jonny a napkin so he can wipe his chin. It’s wet and Patrick can’t help watching as Jonny’s tongue peeks out to catch some of the liquid. It’s a ridiculous repeat of last night, when Patrick had choked on his beer, and it makes Patrick blush to think of everything that’s happened between them since.

Jonny wads up the napkin and tosses it as Patrick’s face, then leans forward, beckoning Patrick to come closer. “Here’s my first tip: when you’re gonna let a guy tie you up, ask him to play with your balls? Maybe don’t prank him. Puts ideas in his head.”

“Shit,” Patrick swallows, Jonny’s words and the darkly intent way Jonny’s looking at him, like he’s actually thinking about how he’s gonna do to Patrick, hitting him hard.

“Mmm hmm,” Jonny says, eyes running over Patrick’s face. “Not that I need any excuses to get ideas about you.”

“You, uh. You have ideas? About me?”

“Oh, Patrick, you don’t even want to know,” Jonny says with an evil smirk that goes straight to Patrick’s cock.

“Like what?” Jonny just shrugs, sipping his coffee, eyes dancing. “Asshole, come on, like what?”

“Well,” Jonny says, drawing the word out. “For starters I’d like to see if your nipples are as sensitive as I think they are.”

Somehow Jonny’s words are enough to make Patrick’s nipples react, tightening under his shirt. The one Patrick had pinched in the restroom starts to ache, as though Jonny’s already abusing it. His throat clicks and Jonny’s smile gets even dirtier.

“What, what else?” Patrick’s voice is thin and breathy and Jonny licks his lips.

“I want to gag you,” Jonny says, staring at Patrick’s mouth. “Get something in that mouth for you to chew on and suck on, see how your lips look stretched around something.”

“Oh, uh. That’s not — I don’t know,” Patrick says, his heart pounding a little at the thought.

“You do, too. You want it.” Jonny says. “Bet you’d love having something to chew on while I licked your nipples, maybe bit them a little. Got ‘em all puffy and wet before I put on some clamps.”

“Clamps?”

“Mmm hmm,” Jonny says. He cocks his head. “Since you’re a beginner, and you’re so sensitive, I’d use these adjustable clamps I have. I could spend the whole day tightening them, watching you strain and cry.”

“That’s…” Patrick’s helplessly turned on, but he can also feel the fear creeping in as he imagines being tied to that mattress Jonny uses, or maybe to the chair, unable to get away. “That’s a lot.”

“I know,” Jonny says, looking just as turned on as Patrick. “It will be.”

Something’s gnawing at Patrick though. “But, uh if I’m gagged, how would I tell you to stop? If I want you to stop, I mean.” All of the guys in Jonny’s videos had been gagged although Patrick could still hear their muffled pleas for mercy.

Pleas that always seemed to make Jonny push them even harder, made them more vulnerable to his torture.

“Oh, I’m sure you will want me to stop,” Jonny replies, eyes getting even darker. “I’m sure you’ll beg and plead.” He let's his eyes drift shut, like he’s picturing it, and when he opens them again, he’s staring straight at Patrick. “But I’m not gonna stop.”

It sounds amazing — Patrick’s cock certainly seems to be all-in on the idea — and he’s about to ask Jonny to show him right the fuck now, when there’s a huge crash a few tables away.

Patrick jumps at the sound, and it shakes him loose of the fantasy that Jonny was weaving, and in its place, the cold reality of what they’re talking about — what Jonny’s talking about doing — hits him, sending a cold shiver down his spine. He doesn’t actually know Jonny at all, and the idea that he wouldn’t be able to say no, that he couldn’t stop him, that Jonny won’t stop even if he begs him, suddenly seems terrifying. “But what if I _really_ wanted you to stop?”

Jonny observes him for a moment. “I’d stop,” he says simply, his face softening. It’s as though a mask has dropped off his face and all that’s left is Jonny, no trace of _Tazer19._ “If you really wanted me to stop, of course I would.”

“But how would you know?”

“We figure that out in advance — it’s all part of the game. A signal that you could use if you need to, for any reason.”

“Oh,” Patrick says, voice small, and now he feels like an idiot. Of course Jonny would stop, wouldn’t _actually_ hurt him, wouldn’t do something Patrick didn’t want him to do, but he still feels weird and off-balance. “That’s good. Good to know, I mean? So, I guess we can, uh. Go back to your place now?”

“Pat,” Jonny sighs, then covers Patrick’s hand with his. “I love how eager you are, but I think we’re moving too fast. I think you really need to do some research before we do anything else, because this is supposed to be fun. This isn’t your buddies daring you to jump off a cliff on spring break or something.”

“I know that!”

“Well, then you have to know that what I do to men are some of the most intense, scary things a man can go through. It requires knowledge, trust, _negotiation._ None of which you have enough information to really do.”

“You know what you’re doing — I trust you!” Patrick protests.

“Well, you shouldn’t,” Jonny says flatly. “You don’t know me, you don’t know anything about me. I could take you back to my place and tie you up, but then what’s to stop me from injuring you? Raping you? Killing you?”

“You wouldn’t! You’re a good guy!”

“I am,” Jonny agrees. “But you don’t actually know that. And to an extent, you’ll never totally know that, so you have to do things to be safe. Like tell someone where you’re going and with who — “

“I’m _not_ telling anyone about this!” Patrick’s voice has gone high pitched and Jonny squeezes his hand, grounding him a little.

“You don’t have to tell them what we’re doing, but you can’t just go to some strange guy’s house, let him tie you up and gag you, and not make sure someone knows, and that the guy knows someone knows. This is all, like, BDSM 101.”

“I — I guess that makes sense, I just,” Patrick bites his lip. “I don’t know who I’d even tell.”

“Well, you need to figure it out,” Jonny says, squeezing his hand again. “And that’s just for starters. What are your kinks? Your soft limits? Your hard limits? What’s your safe word?”

“Safe word?” Patrick scoffs, all the questions emphasizing how foreign all of this is for him, making him feel off balance. “You mean that shit’s real? I thought that was just a joke.”

“It’s real,” Jonny replies, sitting back in his chair again, his hand slipping off Patrick’s. Patrick pulls his own hand into his lap to keep himself from grabbing for Jonny again. “Did you have a chance to look at the websites I sent you?”

“No,” Patrick admits. “I slept for like, fifteen hours and called you as soon as I woke up.”

“I told you last night, you need to read — “

“I know, but. I just thought, I don’t know. You asked me for coffee and I just wanted to see you.” Patrick says honestly.

“Oh,” Jonny says, looking softly pleased. “That’s, uh. Me, too? But seriously, man. You gotta educate yourself a little more before we can do anything.”

“Really?” Patrick whines.

“Really,” Jonny nods. “I’m gonna give you some specific things you need to research.”

“Jonny, this list is stupid,” Patrick complains when he gets Jonny’s text with all the things Patrick’s supposed to look up. He squints at it. “Why did you put down watersports? Are we going skiing or something?”

“Because I need to know if you want me to pee on you, and if you do, just on your body or in your mouth,” Jonny says, and now it’s Patrick’s turn to choke, except this time it’s on his own spit.

“What the hell, man, that’s — that’s disgusting!” Patrick gags.

“Some guys like it,” Jonny says matter of factly. “And other guys want me to put a catheter in their dick and fill them up with fluid, not let them pee at all for hours.”

“What…” Patrick shakes his head, a little nauseous now. He’d had a catheter once, after he broke his arm in junior high and he didn’t remember it going on in but when the nurse had pulled it out, it was awful enough that he’s never forgotten the painful, hot, ache it’d left behind. “That is _not_ sexy. Like. At all.”

“Maybe not to you, but that’s my point. I don’t know what you don’t want me to do. _You_ don’t even know what you don’t want me to do, because you don’t know all the possibilities. It’s not just ball squeezing and nipple twisting.”

“Well that’s going at the top of the _hell no, never ever_ list,” Patrick says emphatically.

“So it’s a hard limit,” Jonny nods.

“So it’s a hard limit,” Patrick mocks snottily, starting to get annoyed at how implacable Jonny’s being. “Jesus, man, do you even have any opinions about all this shit? Even the most twisted and sick stuff, it’s just, _eh, whatevs, I’ve done it, blah blah blah?”_

“Of course I have opinions, I have my own limits. Ones I worked out over years of being into kink.” Jonny says, his eyes flashing a little. “But this isn’t about _me,_ remember? This is about you.”

“Oh, right, so if I, what, asked you to take a dump on me, would you?”

“No, because that’s a hard limit for me,” Jonny says easily.

“Oh, so you _do_ have some standards, good to know,” Patrick sneers. Patrick knows he’s being an asshole but fuck Jonny for making him feel stupid and off balance when he’d honestly thought maybe he’d be getting orgasms and instead he’s just getting assignments and a lecture. Patrick’s ready to have his big, gay, kinky adventure and Jonny’s not playing along. Maybe Jonny’s not even interested in Patrick and this is an easy way to brush him off. The thought makes Patrick’s stomach twist and something dark and mean blooms inside of him. “What if someone pays you to shit on them on camera?”

“Okay, I think we’re done here,” Jonny stands up and looks down at Patrick, face finally showing signs of irritation. “Do some research and call me when — _if_ — you grow up and want to behave like an adult.”

“I am an adult,” Patrick snaps. “I’m just not a fucking online pervert.”

“I just made the videos,” Jonny says, leaning closer until his face is even with Patrick’s. “I didn’t spend an entire night jerking off to them. So think about that before you start hurling around words like “pervert”, hmm?”

Jonny walks out before Patrick can reply, and he’s not even out of sight before Patrick’s slumping in his seat, hands scrubbing at his burning face. His phone vibrates twice a minute later, and he glances over at it without picking it up. It vibrates once more before falling silent, and Patrick steels himself to look.

 _Tazer:_ I’m pretty sure that was you freaking out, not just being a dick  
  
 _Tazer:_ But fuck you for being a dick anyway  
  
 _Tazer:_ You can still call me if you have questions

And if that doesn’t make Patrick feel like a total asshole. He chews on his lip, the remnants of his earlier anger draining away.

 _Patrick:_ Sorry, I think I am freaking out  
  
_Patrick:_ I really shouldn’t have said that, I didn’t mean it  
  
_Patrick:_ I don’t think you’re a pervert  
  
_Patrick:_ This shit is just hard, you know?  
  
_Patrick:_ So I’m really sorry

He stares at his phone but there’s no reply, and the message bubble isn’t even open. He clears their table and is just about to walk outside when it buzzes again.

 _Tazer:_ Thanks  
  
_Tazer:_   I know this is hard, especially happening so fast  
  
_Tazer:_ But still, fuck you for being a dick

Jonny sends a winky emoji quickly followed by:

 _Tazer:_ That’s supposed to be the finger  
  
_Tazer:_ I hate this fucking phone

It makes Patrick laugh, and he replies back with a series of random emojis and gets back the middle finger emoji.

 _Patrick:_ Aw, there you go, you got it right!

 _Tazer:_ Fuck off  
  
_Tazer:_ Now stop freaking out  
  
_Tazer:_ Go do your research  
  
_Tazer:_ Seriously  
  
_Tazer:_ Call me if you have any questions

 _Patrick:_ Thanks, man. I definitely will

He’s trying to decide whether he should beg for another chance when Jonny texts him again.

 _Tazer:_ If you still want to do this, meet me on Friday at Lucky Strike at 5PM and we can talk more

The relief flooding through him tells Patrick all he needs to know about whether this is something he still wants to do with Jonny.

 _Tazer:_ And tell someone you’re meeting me, give them my phone number and full name (Jonathan Toews), and tell them you’ll call them by 6PM or they need to contact you immediately  
  
_Tazer:_ If - IF - we go anywhere else, you’ll be sending them my address and another contact time  
  
_Tazer:_ This is non-negotiable, Patrick

Well, shit. Guess he’s gonna have to tell Sharpy. He’s more afraid of that than of having Jonny squeeze his balls. And a lot less turned on. But still, Jonny’s as much as admitted he’s gonna take Patrick back to his place, so Patrick must not have fucked up too badly.

 _Patrick:_ OK, fine

 _Tazer:_ Good. I’m looking forward to Friday, even if it’s just to talk

Patrick smiles and puts his phone down, grabbing his laptop. If he’s gonna be ready for whatever Jonny has in mind for Friday, he might as well start now.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Patrick spends the rest of the day on Fetlife.com, and every time he has to get up and walk away because something’s too much, he pulls out his phone and looks at that last message from Jonny, and something inside him eases.

The fourth time he has to walk away, he can’t help texting Jonny.

 _Patrick:_ breathplay? no go, man. Wow

Jonny reply comes in while Patrick’s making a sandwich.

 _Tazer:_ Not my favorite either  
  
_Tazer:_ btw, how’s the research going?

 _Patrick:_ it’s a lot, man

 _Patrick:_ who knew being kinky came in so many flavors?!?!

 _Tazer:_ Everyone, Pat. Literally everyone

Patrick sticks his tongue out at the phone and goes back to searching the terms Jonny texted to him.

A few days later, he’s shifting in his chair as he stares at a large, black butt plug, imagining it inside him. It’s too big, too intimidating. Too gay.

 _Patrick:_ butt plugs? i think that’s a no, too

 _Patrick:_ probably

 _Patrick:_ IDK, this shit is confusing

He closes his laptop and flops back on his bed, pulling up Facebook to distract himself while he waits for Jonny to reply. It doesn’t take long.

 _Tazer:_ I know  
  
_Tazer:_ Is it just plugs you don’t like? Or assplay in general?

 _Patrick:_ Both? Maybe?  
  
_Patrick:_ I just… it’s nothing i’ve ever done, you know? Never even fantasized about it

Patrick chews on the corner of a nail, then sighs. He hopes it’s not a deal breaker, but having someone — or something — inside him seems too gay, somehow. It doesn’t make sense - he’s more excited about seeing Jonny again that he’s ever been about anyone he’s dated. He’s jerking off to memories of kissing a man. He’s planning to have sex with a man - again! - which is pretty far down the Kinsey scale. And yet anal seems like it’s an admission of something. Patrick knows he’s being stupid, but it’s how he feels. Before he can blurt all that out to Jonny, his phone dings with a new text.

 _Tazer:_ Nobody’s ever fingered you when they were blowing you?

 _Patrick:_ God no  
  
_Patrick:_ That’s always been strictly an “out” hole, Jonny  
  
_Patrick:_ Is that okay?

 _Tazer:_ Absolutely okay  
  
_Tazer:_ Some guys never do anything anal

Patrick sighs with relief.

 _Patrick:_ Good, I just don’t know if I’m ever gonna want that

 _Tazer:_ I get it, and no pressure, but if I can make one comment?

 _Patrick:_ Sure

 _Tazer:_ You don’t know what you’re missing

Patrick’s stunned. A big guy like Jonny, a “dom,” likes getting fucked?

 _Patrick:_ You bottom?

 _Tazer:_ Hell, yes I bottom  
  
_Tazer:_ Having someone inside you, opening you up with his cock? Pressing on your prostate, getting you sloppy and wet? It’s pretty fucking awesome

Patrick feels heat rise in his face and has to close his eyes. Which doesn’t help because now all he can picture are Jonny’s fingers, slick with lube, sliding back behind his balls. He adjusts himself and thinks about how to reply.

 _Patrick:_ I don’t know  
  
_Patrick:_ Maybe later? When I’m not freaking out about watersports and breathplay hahaha

 _Tazer:_ LOL  
  
_Tazer:_ That’s fine, I’ll always respect your limits  
  
_Tazer:_  But you’re putting it down as a maybe?

Patrick squirms and palms himself. And then, because one of the things Fetlife has drilled into him is absolute honesty, he ignores how mortifying it is and types out another text, hitting send before he can rethink it.

 _Patrick:_ It’s making my dick hard, so. Seems like a solid maybe

 _Tazer:_ Let’s explore that “maybe” together, okay?  
  
_Tazer:_ I think you’ll enjoy me pushing you a little  
  
_Tazer:_ I know I will

Patrick shuts his eyes and thinks about it, having Jonny’s fingers, or, Jesus, his cock, inside of him, and his own dick twitches.

 _Patrick:_ I’m not sure I like the sound of that (except my dick is still hard, so…)

 _Tazer:_ I’m glad to hear it  
  
_Tazer:_ Also, I hope you know there’s nothing that’s non-negotiable  
  
_Tazer:_ If we try something and it’s too much for you, we can stop

Patrick finds himself thinking about their conversation the next day when he’s supposed to be prepping for a meeting and Sharpy finally snaps at him.

“Get your head out of the clouds, Peeks, what the fuck,” Sharpy says, closing his laptop with an annoyed click. “We’ve gotta get this prospectus done now so I can go home early enough that my wife hasn’t changed the locks.”

“Fuck off,” Patrick replies reflexively, making Sharpy’s frown deepen. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just feeling weird today.”

“You’ve been weird all week. Half the time you’re grinning at your phone or staring into space with a stupid smile on your face, the other half you’re sighing and looking like you just lost your cat. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Ugh, I’m sorry, I’m just…” Patrick trails off, unsure how to finish. _Just thinking about fucking this guy I met on a kink youtube channel_ seems a little too much to lead with.

“Just…” Sharpy prompts impatiently, face concerned. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know, but,” Patrick eyes him for a long moment, debating whether talking to Sharpy is worth the grief he’s probably going to get about this whole thing with Jonny. “Just… I think I met someone?”

“Peeks!” Sharpy’s face relaxes into a grin. “That’s awesome. Who is she?”

“Uh. She’s a guy?”

“She’s a guy?” Sharpy frowns. “I don’t understand that sentence, Peeks.”

“His name is Jonny, he’s a guy,” Patrick sighs.

“You met a guy.”

“Yeah, and I think I might like him. A lot.”

“You met a guy, and you like him a lot.” Sharpy leans back in his chair and eyes Patrick speculatively. “This requires alcohol and a lot more details, Peeks. Let’s get out of here.”

They’ve barely settled into a booth with their beers when Sharpy starts interrogating Patrick.

“I have so many questions, but let’s start with: when did you start liking men?”

“When I met Jonny,” Patrick says with a shrug. “I’m not even sure if it’s a guy thing as much of a Jonny thing.”

“A Jonny thing,” Sharpy echoes a little flatly.

“Yes, a Jonny thing,” Patrick snaps defensively. “You got a problem with that?”

“Not in theory, no, but pardon me for being a little confused that my aggressively straight best friend is suddenly into some guy named Jonny,” Sharpy responds. “But, hell, Peeks, you know I don’t give a shit who you date. Or fuck.”

“Cool,” Patrick says, relieved.

“So, where did you meet him? And when?”

“Lucky Strike.” Patrick isn’t about to get into how they actually met but he also doesn’t want to outright lie. “On Saturday.”

“I didn’t know you bowled, Peeks,” Sharpy says, eyebrows raised, because he’s a fucking snoop and a trained lawyer and he always knows when Patrick’s hiding something.

“I don’t think me going bowling is the part of this story that’s shocking,” Patrick says dryly, and Sharpy laughs.

“True.”

“And we didn’t bowl, just bumped into each other in the bar.” It’s close enough to the truth that it must ring true, because Sharpy seems satisfied. “Spent a couple hours talking, and just. I like him.”

“Are you sure you’re not confusing liking him with, you know. _Liking him?”_ Sharpy wiggles his eyebrows.

“Pretty sure,” Patrick laughs. “I sure liked having his tongue in my mouth, and his - “

“Too much information,” Sharpy yells, putting his hands over his ears. “La la la, don’t want to hear about your sex life.” He’s grinning, though, and Patrick feels something in him ease.

“Fine, but anyway, we met on Saturday, and got coffee on Sunday.” He tells Sharpy about all the things he and Jonny seem to have in common, and the little he knows about him, and endures Sharpy teasing him about all of it. They’re on their second beer when Sharpy asks him when he’s seeing Jonny again.

“We actually have a date on Friday night.” He pauses, chewing the inside of his cheek. He needs to ask someone to check on him and while Andrew and Brandon are possibilities, he’d kinda like to minimize the number of people who know about Jonny. For now, anyway. “And I have a favor to ask. Can you - I need you to call me if I haven’t called you by seven.”

“Call you? While you’re on your date?” Sharpy’s eyebrows go up. “Why?”

“It’s just — just in case things aren’t going well, I want you to call me, okay?”

“Peeks — “ Sharpy’s back to looking concerned.

“Sharpy, please. Just — can you do this for me? I’ll explain later, I promise,” Patrick pleads.

“Fine,” Sharpy replies, “but I’m holding you to that.”

“Thanks, Sharpy,” Patrick says, relieved. He has no idea how he’s ever gonna explain this to Sharpy but that’s a problem for another day.

***

“Furries,” Patrick says, back-buttoning out of the window with a shudder. “What. The. Hell.”

“What are you muttering about?” Andrew asks, peering over Patrick’s shoulder.

“Nothing!” Patrick snaps, closing the browser and shutting his laptop.

“Kaner’s got a secret,” Andrew coos.

“Fuck off.”

“You’ve been on that thing all week,” Brandon says, plopping down on the couch. He’d arrived from Calgary on Monday, and he and Andrew have barely emerged from their room since, so Patrick isn’t sure how he had time to notice what Patrick’s been doing.

“Lots of stuff going on at work.” Patrick mumbles.

“Stuff that makes you blush?” Andrew says as he drops onto Brandon’s lap, making him let out a loud _“oof.”_

“Jesus, what’s with the third degree?” Patrick snaps. “I’m going to bed.”

“Someone’s got her period,” Andrew whispers, falsetto, and Patrick flips him off. He slams the door to his bedroom for emphasis.

He spends a few more minutes looking up the things Jonny asked him to, and then grabs his phone, hovering over Jonny’s contact info. They’ve texted all week but Patrick really needs to hear his voice, so he finally hits send.

“Hi, Pat.’ Jonny sounds a little sleepy, which isn’t inappropriate, Patrick thinks, wincing as he realizes it’s after eleven.

“Hey,” Patrick says. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, no, just watching TV,” Jonny says. “What’s up?”

“I think I finished my research.”

“Your research? Oh!” Jonny clears his throat and sounds a little more awake. “And?”

“Some of this shit is seriously fucked up, but whatever,” Patrick says. “So, now what?”

“What do you mean?”

“What happens next, Captain Kink?”

Jonny barks out a laugh. “Never been called that before. But, if you think you’re ready, we need to write out your hard and soft limits.”

“You mean like a contract?” Patrick isn’t so sure he wants to be a contracted sub for Jonny. He’d read a lot about it and while some of it was interesting, mostly it sounded like too much work for him.

“No, not really, more like a kink checklist,” Jonny says, and Patrick hears the sound of him typing on a keyboard. “Let me send you mine, take a look and circle the things you want to try with me, cross out the stuff you definitely don’t want to try and leave the “maybe” stuff blank.”

Patrick’s email dings and he opens Jonny’s attachment. “Got it,” he says, starting to read over it. “Sounding? You like sounding?”

“Urethral play is one of my favorites,” Jonny replies, his voice a little deeper. “Sliding a rod into a guy’s dick, watching his face as he fights his fear, as the sensation balances between pain and pleasure… Kinda hits all my buttons.”

“It looked fucking terrifying,” Patrick admits. He’d closed the browser after seeing the first image of a guy’s dick impaled and gaping around a thick silver rod, and planned on putting that firmly in the “no, never, not ever” column.

“That’s half the fun,” Jonny says.

“You like it when guys are scared?” Patrick swallows around a suddenly dry throat. “That turns you on?”

“Mmm hmm, so much,” Jonny says a little dreamily. “Get off on that almost as much as I do on hurting someone.”

“I don’t know what to say to that,” Patrick replies, because how do you reply when a guy says he gets off on scaring people? On hurting people? What the fuck has Patrick gotten himself into?

“I’m a sadist,” Jonny says matter-of-factly. “I like to using pain and fear to bring people pleasure.”

“Oh.” Patrick knew that, on some level, but hearing it said so baldly is more than a little overwhelming.

“Pat,” Jonny says gently. “You okay?”

“I just never… I hadn’t put it all together like that, you know? It’s a lot.”

“Too much?”

“I don’t know,” Patrick says honestly. All the videos of Jonny hurting guys suddenly seem a lot less fantasy and a lot more reality.

“Like I said before, all of this is negotiable,” Jonny soothes, but is it? If it’s too much for Patrick, what is he doing with Jonny? And if Jonny’s really as into kink as he seems - and calling himself a sexual sadist seems pretty fucking into kink - would he even consider any kind of relationship with Patrick if he decided it was all too much for him and he only wanted to have vanilla sex?

“If you say so,” Patrick finally responds, when the silence over the phone has gone on too long.

“Okay, so urethral play is out,” Jonny prompts smoothly.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. It’s probably going on the hard limits,” Patrick admits ruefully.

“No problem at all.” Jonny sounds like he’s not disappointed at all. “Want to tell me what does sound good to you?”

It takes Patrick a moment to get back into the conversation, still distracted by the concern that he’s too new, too vanilla, too _straight_ for a guy like Jonny. “Uh, edging and orgasm denial is pretty hot,” Patrick manages finally, lowering his voice just in case Brandon or Andrew can hear him through the walls.

“Oh, yeah, saw that first hand last week. What else turned you on?”

The arousal in Jonny’s voice makes Patrick’s face hot but it also makes it easier to go on. “A lot,” Patrick replies, his voice cracking a little. “Nipple clamps. Uh, cock rings. Restraints. Gags. Leather. CBT, obviously.”

“That’s a great list, Pat,” Jonny says, making Patrick shift on his bed, his cock getting interested in the conversation again. “What kind of CBT? Cock whipping? Ball squeezing? Sensation play? Impact play? Electricity?”

“Oh my God,” Patrick’s cock jerks in his boxer briefs at Jonny’s words, almost fully hard as he thinks about Jonny doing those things to him, and he palms it absently. “All— All of that?”

“I can work with that,” Jonny practically purrs. “I’ve got some ideas already.”

“That’s, uh. Good?” Patrick croaks. “I think?”

“Mmm. For now, though would you do something for me?” Jonny’s voice is even deeper now, somehow. “Something to make Friday even more fun for both of us?”

“What?” Patrick’s almost afraid to ask.

“Don’t come.”

“Don’t - what?” Patrick had been sincerely hoping the call was gonna turn into phone sex. “You mean, like, tonight?”

“No. Well, yeah, tonight, but I don’t want you to come until we’re together Friday. I promise, it’ll be so worth it.”

Patrick looks down at his hard dick. “No way, man, I’m about to go off right now!”

“Are you?” Jonny says, breath coming faster. “Talking about this getting you as hot as it’s getting me?”

“Fuck yeah,” Patrick says.

“I want to see. Get your cock out.”

“Get it out?! I thought you said not to jerk off!”

“I did. Now _show it to me,”_ Jonny demanded.

“Jesus, what is it with you and dick picks?” Patrick complains, even as he reaches into his boxers and pulls himself out, snugging the elastic down until they catch under his balls. “And I don’t see how this is gonna help with the whole not coming thing, but whatever.”

He snaps a photo and sends it off, and hears Jonny’s breath catch a moment later. “Holy shit, that’s pretty,” Jonny breathes. “Look at you, so hard. And you’re already wet.” When Patrick inhales shakily in response to his words, Jonny’s voice gets deeper. “Dripping wet. Like a slut who needs to get off. Are you a little slut, Patrick?”

“I— “ Patrick’s cock jerks and more precum spurts out. “I might be. For you.” He flushes hot when Jonny groans in response.

“Oh, I like the sound of that,” Jonny says. “My own little slut, getting hard for me. Touch yourself, Pat.”

“But you said - ”

“I said not to come, not that you couldn’t touch yourself,” Jonny interrupts. “Now do it, Pat.”

“Man, this is just cruel,” Patrick complains, his voice going breathy as he takes ahold of himself. “I’m… I’m doing it, Jonny.”

“Yeah, I can tell by how you’re breathing.”

“Fuck, this is - I’m so hard.” Patrick’s voice cracks. “Feels so good.”

“I know. So easy for this, aren’t you?” He sounds admiring and Patrick’s face blames anew.

“I - I want to be.”

“I can tell. Now tell me you’re a slut,” Jonny says, and then it’s time for Patrick to groan.

He feels warm from the tips of his ears on down, and he can barely speak, but he finally screws up his courage and gives in. “I’m a slut?”

“Was that a question?”

“I’m a slut,” Patrick says, squeezing a little harder and shivering as pleasure races up his spine. He feels hot all over, desperate and panting.

“Oh, yeah, my little slut,” Jonny groans in reply. “So hungry for me, aren’t you, Pat?”

“Jonny-” Patrick gasps as his hand starts moving faster, falling into the familiar rhythm he uses to jerk off.

Jonny tsks at him. “Slow down. And don’t grip tightly, just a loose fist, spread some of that slick on your pretty, pretty cock. And don’t forget: you can’t come.”

“Oh my God,” Patrick moans, forcing himself to stop. He’s sweating now, and it makes him shiver a little in the cool air of his room. He wipes his forehead and forces himself back from the edge.

Just when he feels like he’s got himself under control again, Jonny’s voice in his ear prods at him. “Come on, Pat, I’m waiting.”

“Fuck you,” Patrick snaps, but he runs his palm over the head of his cock, getting it wet enough that he can slide his hand more easily down his shaft. There’s not enough to eliminate the friction, and somehow going slowly makes his hand drag more harshly than it usually does. Patrick moans at how the tiny bite of pain is amping up how good it feels.

“What did you just do?” Jonny demands immediately.

“Just - _fuck_ \- jerking it, but it’s not wet enough.” Patrick drags his hand up and down again. “Hurts. But also… also feels good. So good.”

“You’re gonna kill me,” Jonny groans. “I can hear your breathing change, the little hitch you make when it hurts too much. But you like it when it hurts, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Patrick whispers, letting his hand drag more harshly down the shaft and then back up and over the head. “Feels so good, oh God. So good.”

“Listening to you turning that pain into pleasure, you don’t even know. It makes me want to totally wreck you. I love turning pain into the most incredible pleasure.”

“Wish you were here,” Patrick admits, his eyes drifting shut as he imagines Jonny in the room, watching him. “Wanna show you how hot you make me.”

“Me, too,” Jonny says, and then they go silent, Patrick stroking himself a little more tightly until Jonny orders him to stop stroking himself just as Patrick’s close to the edge again. He gives Patrick a moment to compose himself before issuing a new order.

“Just play with the head, Pat,” Jonny murmurs. “And get it nice and wet for me.”

Patrick uses his thumb to gather up some precum and spreads it around until it’s glistening in the overhead light.

“Now, press down on the slit a little, just enough to make it open up.”

“O-okay.” He squeezes the head just enough that the slit opens up, and he’s fighting the urge to thrust into his fist when his thumb slides over the mouth of his cock. It’s gaping a little and the edge of Patrick’s thumb dips inside a little. The nerve endings there are a lot more sensitive than the rest of the head and it makes Patrick shiver with how intense it feels, and he swallows loudly around the saliva that’s gathered in his mouth. Maybe he gets the urethral play thing a little more now, he thinks wildly and has to bite back the admission, because _no fucking way_ is he telling that to the sadist who lives to scare people.

“Rub it, rub your whole thumb over the head,” Jonny’s voice interrupts Patrick’s thoughts. Patrick does and moans again. “Tell me how it feels.”

“It feels so good, Jonny,” Patrick pants.

“Are you getting wet?”

“So wet,” Patrick admits, pulling his hand back and watching a sticky wet thread cling to his thumb. He has the sudden urge to bring his fingers to his mouth.

“You ever taste yourself?” Jonny whispers, the fucking psychic.

“No,” Patrick gasps, watching as another pearl of precome forms on the tip of his cock. “Kinda want to try.”

“If I was there,” Jonny growls, “I’d feed it to you, make you lick my fingers clean, then get more. Paint those gorgeous lips with it.”

“Oh my god,” Patrick gasps. “Can I come? Please?”

“Hmm… No,” Jonny says with an evil smugness in his tone.

“Please? I’m so, so fucking close,” Patrick begs.

“I know you are, but you can’t.”

“Why are you being so mean?”

“Hello, sadist,” Jonny laughs. “So, no, you can’t come. But you’re getting me off from just listening to you playing with yourself. Begging me to come. _Obeying me._ ”

“Just you,” Patrick says, instinctively, and Jonny swears. “Wanna be yours, Jonny.”

“I’m gonna make you mine,” Jonny assures him. “Gonna do so much to you, Patrick, you don’t even know. Gonna have my way with you _and_ your cock.”

“Ohhh,” Patrick says, his hand speeding up again. “Want that, too. Want everything, whatever you want.”

“Do you wanna come for me?” Jonny asks him.

“So much. Can I?” Patrick begs. Jonny groans, and it makes Patrick flush with satisfaction. “Please, can I?”

“Not yet,” Jonny replies immediately, tutting when Patrick starts to complain. “Shh, no whining.”

“I’m not whining,” Patrick protests. “I’m just really fucking turned on and I want to come. Please, Jonny? Come on, just one more time, then I’ll be good until Friday, I promise.”

“Tempting,” Jonny says, drawing the word out until Patrick thinks he might actually give in. “But I think not.”

“But - “

“It’s Wednesday, Pat. You can wait until Friday. And I’ll make it so good for you, you’re gonna come so hard.” His voice drops into a deeper register again. “I have so many plans.”

“You do?” Patrick’s distracted at the idea of Jonny making plans for him. And by the knowledge that he’s not sure he can handle actually _hearing_ about Jonny’s plans for him. Still, he has to ask. “Like what?”

“Not telling,” Jonny says. “But here’s a little teaser - I’m gonna finish you off with my mouth. Gotta get a taste of that pretty cock.”

“Shit, shit,” Patrick grabs the base of his cock, trying to pull himself back from the edge. “You have to shut up or there’s no way I’ll make the next sixty seconds, Jonny, let alone two whole days.”

“I think you can be a good boy for me until Friday, don’t you?” Jonny says. “But you’re right, I shouldn’t be so cruel. Stop what you’re doing and put your cock away.”

“But Jonny I’m so close - “

“Let go of your cock, and tuck yourself back into your pants.” Patrick’s frozen, staring down at his cock, which is so flushed with blood it’s practically purple now, twitching and straining in his grip. “Now, Patrick.”

“Ugh,” Patrick sighs and does as he’s told, unable to resist Jonny when he uses that voice. It takes a minute, though, because he’s so hard it hurts to angle his cock back into his briefs.

“Do you own a cock ring?” Jonny asks just as Patrick’s pulling up his zipper, muttering about sadists and their fucking plans.

“No! Why the fuck would I have a cock ring!” Patrick winces when he realizes how loud his voice is. Fuck, there’s no way Andrew didn’t hear that.

“Every man should own a cock ring, Pat.” Jonny’s voice is beyond judgmental.

“Yeah, well, I was vanilla as fuck until I met you, so no, Mr. Super BDSM Sadist, I don’t own a cock ring.”

“I’m appalled,” Jonny replies. “Do you know the Pleasure Chest on Lincoln?”

“The sex store?” Patrick’s walked by it more than once, staring into the brightly lit interior and wondering who would risk being seen in a store that has an entire wall of brightly colored dildos.

“Yes. I want you to go there tomorrow after work. I’m gonna pick out a cock ring and leave it under your name at the register.”

“Jonny,” Patrick swallows thickly. “I’m not going into a sex store. And I’m definitely not picking up a fucking cock ring with my name on it!”

“Yes, you are,” Jonny says. “And I also want you to spend at least forty-five minutes walking around the store picking out something else to bring with you on Friday night.”

“Like what?” Patrick hates that he’s already planning how early he can get off work tomorrow.

“Whatever strikes your fancy,” Jonny says. “Maybe it’ll be a set of handcuffs or a gag. Maybe a blindfold or mask. A cock whip or a set of nipple clamps.” His voice drops. “Maybe even a dildo or plug. Whatever it is, I’m going to use it on you Friday, so choose carefully.”

“I already told you, no anal,” Patrick says, but his breath is coming faster just at the idea of picking out something for Jonny to use on him. It’s terrifying and hot, and Patrick’s cock is all in again.

“Mmm hmm, you actually said it was a maybe. Guess you won’t bring me a nice, slim plug or a vibrating dildo that I can slide inside you. Open you up a little, to see how you like being penetrated.”

“Damn straight,” Patrick croaks, his hole clenching at the idea. God, he’s totally going to get a dildo tomorrow. Fuck Jonny and his fucking voice and his fucking dirty talk.

“Was that a bad pun?” Jonny huffs.

“What?” Patrick’s losing track of this conversation, so turned on he can hardly think beyond how much he wants to come right fucking now.

“Nevermind,” Jonny says, amused. “Anyway, since we haven’t gone over your checklist, this is a chance for you to find something you want to explore with me. Whatever it is, you don’t have to explain why you want to try it, or feel guilty or embarrassed. You just have to pick something out and bring it to me.”

“O-okay,” Patrick says, his mind racing. As much as the idea of letting Jonny inside his body seems terrifying and exciting all at once, a dildo might be a little advanced for his first time with Jonny. Nipple clamps seem like a good choice, safe enough, something he’s already talked about with Jonny. He’s watched enough porn to know that they come in different tensions, so if he gets his own, he can control how tight they get. “I think I know what I’m gonna get.”

“Don’t decide right now because you’re gonna spend forty five minutes in the shop browsing before you can leave.”

“But why?” Patrick whines. “If I find something right away, I just want to get out of there.”

“Which is exactly why I’m making you stay. I want you to look at the things there, to see them and touch them and get turned on by them,” Jonny says. “I want to know that you’re there because I asked you to, that you’re fighting your own instinct to leave, your embarrassment about wanting this. About wanting what I can give you.”

“That turns your crank, huh?” Patrick tries to joke.

“Of course it does,” Jonny replies, voice gone gravelly again. “I’m picturing you, wide-eyed and red-cheeked, standing in front of the whips and riding crops, and it’s so hot, Pat. Knowing you don’t want to stay almost as much as you don’t want to leave.”

“I’m not sure - “

“Are you gonna think about me while you’re shopping? Think about what you want me to do to you. How I’m going to hurt you, how I can turn pain into the best kind of pleasure imaginable.”

“Fuck,” Patrick gasps, his hands fisting in the sheets to keep from reaching for his cock again. “How do you expect me not to jerk off when you say shit like that to me!”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Jonny adds slyly. “Stop at the counter and pick up the cock ring as soon as you get there, then ask the clerk if you can use their changing room to put it on.”

“I — what?!” Patrick squawks. “I will not! That’s — that’s — they’ll call the cops on me!”

“No, they won’t. They won’t even bat an eye,” Jonny says. “But they will watch you as you walk around the store, knowing you’re wearing my cock ring because looking at all their merchandise is gonna make you hard. And they’ll know that you’re doing it for me.”

“I can’t - “

“You can,” Jonny says firmly. “Because I want you to.”

“Why?” Patrick’s shocked to find himself close to tears. “Why do you want me to make a fool of myself?”

“Hey, hey, that’s not what this is as about,” Jonny soothes. “No one’s gonna be laughing at you, Pat. They’re gonna be so jealous, so turned on. So impressed. And it’ll make me so hard. Jesus, Pat, thinking about you like that… it makes me so hard.”

“It— “ Patrick’s throat clicks. “It does?” Hearing how turned on Jonny is is helping a lot with how terrified Patrick is.

“Mmm hmm. You’re gonna look so good, so pretty, pink cheeks and hard cock, and all because I asked you to.”

“What if I say no?” Patrick whispers, throat dry. “Jonny, I don’t want to, please - “

“You may not want to admit you want to, but we both know this turns you on just as much as it does me,” Jonny says firmly. “And even if it didn’t, you’d still do it for me, right, Pat?”

“But I’m scared,” Patrick admits quietly. Scared but hard, he thinks, his mind whirling.

“Fuck, fuck,” Jonny groans. “That’s so hot, Pat. Gonna make me come, just from hearing your frightened little voice.”

“You are?”

“Tell me why you’re scared. Wanna hear you say it out loud.”

“Because…” Patrick doesn’t know how to voice all the reasons the things Jonny wants him to do make his gut clench _and_ his dick hard. “Because people will see me, they’ll know that I want you to.. to touch me, to hurt me, and that’s…” Patrick’s horrified to find himself on the verge of tears.

“Mmm, yeah, they’ll see you and they’ll know,” Jonny agrees. “Know you’re my slut, you want me to do filthy, dirty things to you. That you’re mine. Mine to hurt and to pleasure.”

“Yeah,” Patrick hiccups, wiping at his face. “Yours, Jesus, I want to be yours.”

“Shh, you will be. You _are_ ,” Jonny says fiercely. “Wish I could be there to see you, watch you in that store.”

“Then meet me!” Patrick pleads. “Come with me, I don’t want to do it alone.”

“I know, but that’s part of what makes it so fun,” Jonny says, and Patrick realizes Jonny’s jerking off is audible, a wet sound that makes Patrick’s cock throb with envy. “Knowing you’re there, hard and embarrassed, I’m gonna spend the whole time you’re there jerking off, probably come twice thinking about it.”

“You’re an asshole,” Patrick whines.

“Maybe I’ll see if I can get the footage from the security camera, download it and watch it.”

“Such an asshole.”

“You gonna do it for me,” Jonny says, a catch in his voice. “Tell me you’re gonna go tomorrow.”

“Ugh, fine, I’ll go,” Patrick agrees.

“Tell me what you’re gonna do there,” Jonny pants. “Wanna hear you say it.”

“I — I’m gonna ask the clerk to give me the cock ring,” Patrick stutters.

“Then what?” Jonny’s breath is coming faster, and Patrick can tell he’s really close to coming. It gives him the courage to tell Jonny what he wants to hear.

“Then, then I’m gonna ask if I can put it on in their dressing room,” Patrick says, gratified to hear Jonny moan. “And I’m gonna put it on and walk around the store.”

“Yeah?” The sound of Jonny’s hand on his cock gets louder.

“I’m gonna be so hard,” Patrick admits. “Looking at all that shit, it’s gonna make me so hard, and everyone’s gonna know. Know I did it for you, because you asked me to.”

“That’s so… I’m coming, Pat,” Jonny gasps, his breathing hitching and then he’s moaning long and low. “Uh uh uh — _Jesus._ Jesus.”

“You okay?” Patrick asks a minute later, when Jonny’s breath is more even.

“So good,” Jonny sighs happily. “You?”

“Hard as a rock,” Patrick grumps.

“You didn’t come?” Jonny asks around a yawn.

“No? You told me not to?” Patrick’s confused and a little pissed. Did Jonny mean that Patrick could’ve jerked off? “I thought you wanted me not to.”

“I did,” Jonny says, pleased. “I’m so proud of you that you didn’t.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Patrick says, ignoring the way his stomach warms at Jonny’s praise.

“I need to get to sleep, got a busy day tomorrow,” Jonny says tiredly.

“Jonny,” Patrick whines plaintively. “I’m hard as a rock! You can’t just come and hang up on me! This isn’t fair!”

“No, it’s not,” Jonny agrees smugly. “Good night.”

The line goes dead, leaving Patrick with a hard dick and a cold shower in his future.

What has his life become, honestly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay! Life intrudes, but hopefully I'll get this finished over the next month or so (I do have a plot now but it's a question of how much filth (and flirting/fighting/angst) these two inspire me to write. Thanks for bearing with me!
> 
> This chapter includes a visit to the Pleasure Chest on Lincoln. I've taken GREAT liberties with it, so if you've been in the store, forgive me. I haven't (yet, ha) and I needed a few things to happen, so I took artistic license with it.
> 
> Also, I know the formatting and style of their text-speak isn't consistent across these chapters, but I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants, so forgive me. Maybe I'll go back and fix it all when I finish this thing. This is still unbeta'd and likely to have tense problems and typos.

He’s muttering crossly to himself as he approaches the Pleasure Chest the next day, cursing Jonny and his stupid need to make Patrick uncomfortable, cheeks already flaming. He glances around the busy street quickly before yanking open the door and forcing himself to walk inside. A bored looking girl at the cashier’s station looks up, and Patrick ducks his head, pretending he’s on his phone so he doesn’t have to meet her eyes. He can tell she’s about three seconds from asking him if he’s lost when when another customer comes up to her with a question.

Patrick takes it for the reprieve it is, slips further inside and glances around the store. It’s huge, almost as large as the Mariano’s he shops at, and he gapes a little at how much stuff there is. There are rack after rack of black leather items, adult videos, counters and rows full of colorful toys, many out of their boxes and on vivid display. The walls are a bright red that screams  _ **sex.**_  It’s overwhelming.

He’s staring in mute awe at an enormous purple dick when someone clears their throat right next to his elbow and he startles, tearing his gaze away.

“Can I help you?” It’s the cashier, no sign of the customer she was helping. She’s chewing gum and Patrick thinks he can see a tongue ring when she smiles at him. She’s gorgeous, tall and long-limbed, her deep brown eyes bright with merriment. They remind him of Jonny’s and the reminder of why he’s subjecting himself to this mortifying exercise makes him swallow hard.

“Uh…” Even though he’s here, Patrick isn’t sure he can do this, but she’s watching him, so grabs something off the display rack next to him and shoves it at her blindly. “I need this.”

“O...kay,” Mel - according to her name tag - replies slowly. Her face twitches when she looks down at it. “Let me guess: bachelor party, right?”

“Bachelor party?” Patrick looks at the item. It’s a box of candy - gummies in the shape of penises, and his face flames hotter. “No!”

“O...kay,” she says again, smirking openly now, her teeth a bright white against her dark skin, and Patrick frowns at her.

“Aren’t you supposed to be, like, non-judgmental or something?”

“Who the fuck told you that?” Mel laughs, handing the penis gummies back to Patrick. “Being judgmental is the best part of this job.”

Her attitude and amusement at his expense makes Patrick mad enough that he forgets to be embarrassed. “Whatever, I’m picking up something on hold,” Patrick grits out.

“Sure,” she says easily, still grinning as she waves him over to the counter. “What’s the name?”

“Patrick.”

“Patrick, huh?” Mel asks, another slow grin crossing her face. “Hmm, we have a lot of stuff on hold back here. Can you be more specific about what you’re supposed to pick up? Don’t want to give you the wrong item.”

“Jesus,” Patrick swears under his breath. “A cock ring.” If he thought his cheeks were red before, now it feels like his whole face is on fire.

“Oh, yeah, I remember seeing that name now! Hold on,” she says with a wink. She ducks under the counter and pulls out a small plastic bag. When Patrick reaches for his wallet, she tsks at him. “No need, it’s already paid for.”

“Thanks.” Patrick takes the bag and shifts in place for a second.

“Did you want the gummies?” She holds out her hand. “They’re $5.44 with tax.”

“What? No!” Patrick coughs, putting them down on the counter. He fidgets with the handles of the bag, peers inside at the small package - helpfully illustrated, to his horror - and then shifts on his feet.

“Did you need something else?” Mel cocks her head quizzically.

“Yeah, uh. Can I use your dressing room?” Patrick mumbles finally. This is way more mortifying than he’d imagined, and he’d imagined it being pretty fucking mortifying. Fuck Jonny and his fucking sex shop field trip. He pointedly doesn’t think what it means that he’s been half-hard since he entered the store.

“Oh!” She grins. “Sure, no problem.”

“Sorry for giving you a hard time,” Mel says as they make their way to the back of the store, bumping his shoulder. “I get a lot of asshole college students in here on a bet, wasting my time.”

“Not a college student,” Patrick says.

“First time in here, though, right?” When Patrick shrugs, she smiles at him, an easier smile than before. “Trust me, what your boyfriend is putting you through is literally nothing compared to what I’ve seen.”

“He’s not - “ Patrick bites his lip. “We’re not… it’s not like that.”

“Well, whatever it _is_  like, don’t let him push you around,” Mel says, more seriously. “Or - do you like that sort of thing?”

“Maybe? I… I’m still figuring that part out, too,” Patrick admits sheepishly.

“Newbie, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“Well, good luck. Here we are. No jerking it in the changing room,” Mel says cheerfully as she stops outside a curtained changing room. She leans in conspiratorially. “Oh, and if you’re not bare, watch out for your pubes, that particular brand tends to pull them out.” She shrugs. “Unless you’re into that, of course! In which case, enjoy!”

Patrick watches her walk away, then pulls the curtain into place. He wishes the booth was a room with a lock on the door, but at least the curtain is heavy and goes from the ceiling to the floor. He can hear voices in the next bay speaking in tones too low to make out words. It makes him wish Jonny had come with him. He swallows hard and pulls out his phone.

 _Patrick:_ I’m in the dressing room but I don’t think I can do this

Jonny replies immediately.

 _Jonny:_  Do you need to safeword?

 _Jonny:_  No shame in that

Patrick blows out a long breath while he thinks about it. He’s scared and more than a little upset, but he’s half hard. He just has to get his shit together.

 _Patrick:_  No, not safewording

 _Patrick:_ I’m just being stupid

 _Patrick:_ Sorry

 _Jonny:_ You know the color system, right?

 _Jonny:_  What color are you right now? Be honest

 _Patrick:_  Green, light green maybe? Yellow-ish green?

 _Jonny:_ But still green, right?

 _Patrick:_ Yeah, I think so

 _Patrick:_  Also, I might be too hard to put this on

 _Jonny:_  You can put the ring on when you’re hard, but it’s kinda advanced and since I’m not there to help, we need to cool you off a little first

Patrick looks down at his erection dubiously.

 _Patrick:_ You know what would cure my erection?

 _Patrick:_ An orgasm, Jonny. An orgasm would cure it

 _Jonny:_ Yeah, well, you’re not getting one of those today so this will have to do

Being ordered not to have an orgasm shouldn't be this hot and yet...

 _Patrick:_ Not. Helping.

 _Jonny:_  Sunglasses emoji

Patrick scowls at his phone.

 _Jonny:_ I want you to close your eyes and do some deep breathing with me

 _Jonny:_ Hold your breath for five seconds, then blow out for five. Do it ten times

”Do it ten times,” Patrick mouths under his breath.

 _Patrick:_ So fucking bossy

 _Jonny:_ I am

Patrick rolls his eyes.

 _Jonny:_ Now close your eyes and do it

Patrick sighs and closes his eyes, breathing through the exercise. He does it again, and he concentrates on loosening all the muscles in his body.

A couple of minutes later, he thinks he’s soft enough to get the thing on, a fact Jonny confirms when Patrick snaps him a photo of his dick and sends it to him. He takes the ring out of the package and turns it over in his hand. It’s fairly large and he glances down at his dick skeptically.

 _Patrick:_ Uh, I’m flattered but this is way too big for my dick

 _Jonny:_ It’s that big because it goes over your balls, too

Patrick frowns at the small circle. There’s no way it’ll fit over his balls and his dick without causing permanent damage. When he tells Jonny as much, he insists Patrick can get it on.

 _Jonny:_ Put it on over your balls, then slide your cock through it. If you need lube, there’s some in the bag

 _Jonny:_ There’s probably a photo on the back

There is a photo, and it makes Patrick gulp. He spends a long time looking between the image and his dick, then says “fuck it,” and wrestles himself into the contraption. It’s not that complicated but it’s also not easy and when he’s done, Patrick’s sweating a little, and minus a small clump of pubic hair.

 _Patrick_ : OMG, this is so tight

 _Patrick_ : My dick is never going to be the same

 _Jonny_ : Quit being a drama queen

 _Jonny_ : But is it really too tight? Does anything feel cold or numb?

Patrick considers it for a second. His dick is anything but numb, and the tight feeling encircling the base is actually arousing him. He watches in the mirror as his cock starts to firm up. He’s a little worried it will make the ring so tight he’ll end up in pain but it doesn’t; the ring stretches as his dick grows and while it’s a lot more snug, the feeling isn’t unpleasant at all.

Once Jonny’s satisfied that Patrick’s wearing it correctly and it’s not pinching off his blood supply, he demands another shot. Patrick takes it and then stares at the image in the message window. The black ring is bright against his pale skin and reddish pubes. His cock is hard enough that it’s sticking straight out from his body and his balls look huge from how they’re pushed up by the wide black circle. His phone buzzes immediately after the photo goes through.

 _Jonny_ : Oooh, that’s gorgeous

 _Jonny_ : I almost told you to shave, but it’s so pretty like that, I’m glad I didn’t

 _Patrick_ : The stupid thing pulled out a ton of hair when I was putting it on

 _Jonny_ : I figured it would

 _Jonny_ : Part of the reason I picked it

He adds a string of happy face emojis, making Patrick snort. Jesus, dating - he guesses? - a sadist is weird, he thinks as he pulls his underwear back up and forces his erection down and to the side so he can zip up his pants. He leaves his shirt untucked in the hope that it will hide the obvious bulge, and checks himself out in the mirror.

His cheeks are flushed and his entire face is shiny with sweat. His lips are a bright red, probably from biting them while he was putting his package through the torture device. And even with his shirt hanging free, his erection is slightly visible against the fabric.

 _Patrick_ : I can’t go out there like this! I look obscene!

 _Jonny_ : I'm sure you look amazing and you will go out there and spend forty-five minutes looking at all the stuff they sell

 _Jonny_ : Text me if you need me, I’ll just be here jerking off

Patrick glares at his phone.

 _Patrick_ : Dick

 _Jonny_ : Yes, please

Jonny adds a winky-face emoji, making Patrick snort again.

“Jesus, dating a dorky sadist is weird,” he says to his reflection before he pockets his phone. He looks in the mirror one last time, smoothing his hair a little before shaking out his arms and rotating his head until he feels his neck crack. He blows out a long breath and grabs the little bag with the empty package in it, holding it in front of himself. It’s large enough that it should help block the view of his erection and he relaxes a little knowing he’s not going to be quite as exposed.

The shop is still mostly deserted when he emerges from the dressing room area, and Mel glances up, winks at him and looks back down at her phone. There’s a couple in one corner - judging by the empty room next to him, the one who’d been trying something on - looking at a display of corsets, and a man with a scruffy beard standing in front of the wall of dildos. Patrick has to pass him to get to the nipple clamps and he can feel the man’s gaze as he hurries by with his head down and makes his way over to the shelf where they’re stocked.

Patrick’s staring at the clamps, unsure where to even begin, when the guy sidles up next to him.

“Hey,” he says, glancing at Patrick’s crotch. “You, uh. You need some help with that?”

“What? No!” Patrick says, shifting away a little. “Fuck off, asshole.”

“Come on, Mary, don’t get your panties in a twist,” the guy says, holding his hands up. “Just offering a friendly hand.” He smirks, but it’s not meanly, and Patrick relaxes a little.

Patrick snorts and makes a shooing motion with his hand. “Go away, I’m taken.”

“You sure, doll? Because you’re gorgeous.” When Patrick stares at him, unimpressed, the guy shrugs. “Fine, fine. But if you’re looking for good clamps, I like those.” He points to a set of silver ones with a long chain that glimmers in the bright lights of the store. “They’re a little tricky to put on, but they go from snug to _‘Oh shit’._  They’re incredible.”

“Uh.” Patrick swallows audibly. “I was kinda looking for something a little more entry level?”

“Hmm,” the guy looks at the wall again. “I mean, you can do a more basic one, but honestly, I think adjustable is the way to go. Clover clamps are another option, but they tend to get too tight too quick, in my opinion. And the other stuff here is mostly gag gift junk.”

Patrick grabs a box off the shelf and reads the description on the back.

_“Designed for precision and strength, the Bauhaus Nipple Vice comes to you with two clamps that can be adjusted to your desired level of tightness with the adjusting screws located at the base. The tips are covered in soft TPR with the addition of a delicate curve at the very end that assists in gripping the skin of your subject. Ending this commanding piece is the addition of a 12 inch connecting chain that looks oh so enticing as it hangs from the captive nipples of your plaything. Measurements: Each clamp measures 3 inches in length, and opens to 0.5 inches wide. Chain is 12 inches in length.”_

When he looks back up, the guy is still watching him, patiently.

“I, uh.” Patrick clears his throat. “Yeah, these sound good. Thanks.”

“No problem, hot stuff,” the man says, holding out his hand. “I’m Ryan, by the way.”

“Er, I - ,” Patrick says, looking at Ryan. He’s exceptionally handsome, with wavy dark hair and chiseled features, and reminds Patrick of a younger, rougher version of Sharpy. Despite his good looks, he doesn’t do anything for Patrick, a fact he files away to ponder later. “I’m really not interested.”

“Dude, I’m not hitting on you anymore, I swear. Just being friendly. Us perverts have to stick together.”

Patrick barks out a surprised laugh, reaching out to shake the Ryan’s hand. “Well, in that case I’m Pat.”

“Nice to meet you, Pat,” Ryan simpers, batting his eyelashes and making Patrick snort. “So I’m going to go back to finding the perfect plug for my boyfriend, but let me know if you have any other questions. I remember being wide-eyed the first time we came here.” He leans a little closer. “Just don’t jerk off in the changing room, it really pisses Mel off.”

Mel glances over at them and flips Ryan the finger with a long-suffering if good-natured expression on her face. “Yeah, he should know. Caught him enough times. Asshole.”

“You love catching me,” Ryan smirks, blowing her a kiss.

“No, _you_  love to be caught because you’re a ridiculous exhibitionist with a punishment kink,” Mel volleys back.

Watching them banter helps Patrick relax, and soon he’s wandering through the aisles more easily, reading descriptions of the quality of leather on a riding crop and letting the strands of a flogger sift through his fingers. The constant, if gentle, throb of his erection inside the cock ring makes concentrating on the items difficult and he doesn’t linger long in front of anything.

He loses a little of his erection when he looks at the wide selection of paddles, going from small leather ones that would fit neatly over someone’s hand to long, sturdy ones evocative of fraternities. He’d watched several videos of men with asses that were beaten with paddles like these, hit for so long and so hard that they turned a deep, dark red, even bleeding in spots. He shudders, unable to imagine what could be sexy about that level of physical abuse.

Apparently paddles are not a turn on at best, and a hard limit at worst. Ironic, since there’s a lot about the kind of pain Jonny inflicts that seems crazy hot to Patrick, if terrifying. It’s terrifying in a different way, unappealing at best, and he’s still thinking about it when he finds himself in front of the line of dildos and plugs. Ryan’s back in front of the display, holding two items with his brow furrowed. He looks over at Patrick with a sigh.

“I can’t chose. Which one do you think?” Ryan shows him a small, egg-shaped device with a bright purple crystal on the end that he recognizes as an anal jewel. “This one says it’s good for long-term wear, and it’s really pretty. Or this one?” The other item is longer, cock-shaped - complete with circumcision scar, Patrick notes wryly - and is bright purple. “It vibrates and glows in the dark, which would be very helpful for finding it in bed.”

“Um,” Patrick shrugs. “No clue, man.”

“Come on, you have to help me! This is a _’sorry for being an asshole, please let me fuck you to make up for it?’_  gift! I can’t screw this up,” Ryan whines, making Patrick laugh.

“Sorry, I’m definitely not the guy to ask, I’m just barely managing to pick out nipple clamps.”

“True,” Ryan says with a wry grin. “Well, I guess I’ll get both of them, and if he doesn’t like the first one I give him, I’ll pull out the other.”

“A solid plan. And if he does like it, you can hold onto the other one for the next time you’re an asshole.”

“Great idea!” Ryan grins. “You know,  you’re hot and smart.” He glances down. “And hung. You sure you don’t want to go somewhere and get to know each other a little better? There’s a Starbucks on Clybourne that’s empty this time of day and has a  single bathroom, we could - “

“Dude, you’re buying your boyfriend a gift for being a dick, I don’t think you’re meant to be picking up other men at the same time.”

“Eh, he knows I’m a total slut,” Ryan says, then squawks when Mel hollers out, “so true!”

Patrick’s surprised to find himself giggling as the two hurl affectionate insults at each other; he’d thought this whole excursion would be mortifying and he’d never last the full forty-five minutes Jonny’d decried. But there’s something really appealing about how matter of fact all this mortifying sex stuff is to them and they way they don’t take any of it - or themselves - seriously. Anal beads, cock rings, nipple clamps… it’s all very straightforward, non-judgmental, even though they seem to delight in trying to embarrass each other. It’s unlike any kind of dynamic Patrick’s experienced in his life, and it’s refreshing.

Ryan finally sticks his tongue out at Mel - who responds by waggling her own tongue, adorned with the stud Patrick thought he’d spied earlier - and turns back to Patrick. “So, you buying one of these, too?”

Patrick looks at the purple dildo Ryan had handed him at some point.“Oh, God no. No, that’s not, I mean… I’m not.” Patrick scratches his neck. “I don’t bottom?”

“Honey, was that a statement or a question?” Ryan says. “And also, why the fuck not? Bottoming is fucking amazing.”

“So I keep hearing,” Patrick mutters.

“Because it’s true,” Ryan says, bending over to grab a box on a lower shelf. “Here. Call it my gift to you. I mean, not my _actual_  gift because I’m a student and I can’t afford shit. But like, you’ll be sending me a thank you note for how fucking happy this makes you. Trust Uncle Ryan.”

It reads: _“Doc Johnson Juli Ashton Anal Beginner's Butt Plug Kit.”_  Patrick looks back at Ryan, who’s smiling at him mischievously. “I don’t really, uh, I don’t think I’m quite ready for this.” He puts the box down only to have Ryan pick it up again and press it back into Patrick’s hands.

“You don’t have to be,” Ryan reassures him, tapping the box. “This can hide out in your closet or under your bed until you are. It’s like the Gay Boy Scout rule: be prepared!” He snaps his fingers. “Speaking of which, where are the… oh, there!” He snatches another box off the wall. “Always, always douche, honey.”

“Uh,” Patrick says, looking down at the nozzle on the package.

“You’re scaring the kid, Hartzy, and not in the good kind of way, like Jonny did,” Mel says, walking up to them. “You really don’t have to listen to him, he’s younger than both of us and a lot less knowledgeable than he likes to think he is.”

“Excuse you, I am, too — wait a minute,” Ryan turns to Patrick, his mouth dropping open. “Did you say _J_ _onny_? As in _Jonathan Toews_  Jonny?”

“Yeah,” Patrick squirms under the obvious shock on Ryan’s face. “Why? Do you know him?”

“Do I? Are you fucking kidding me?” He turns to Mel. “Is he fucking kidding me?”

“I don’t think he’s kidding,” Mel says, then turns when the bell for the door goes off, letting in a group of giggling kids in what look like school uniforms. “Ugh, high school students.”

“The Jonathan Toews, chief Dom and sadist extraordinaire of the greater Chicago area?” Ryan’s blase attitude has bled away, replaced with genuine shock and a little concern. “That’s who you’re dating?”

“Yeah, I guess?”

“Gotta go throw those kids out,” Mel says, “but I’m watching you, Ryan Hartman. Don’t harass Patrick for details about Jonny. Vinnie won’t like it and more importantly, _Jonny_  won’t like it.” With that, Mel walks away to deal with the red faced teenagers gathered around a blow up doll.

“Do you know Jonny?” Patrick asks, completely lost.

“He’s famous - and infamous, everyone into kink in Chicago knows him!”

“How well do you know him?” Patrick frowns, starting to wonder just how slutty Ryan is. And how much Jonny gets around. The idea that Jonny’s fucked Ryan doesn’t sit well with him at all

“Oh, stop glaring at me, sweetie, I know him like I know a lot of people in the scene in this city, that’s all. The question is how well do _you_ know him.”

“Well enough,” Patrick says, a little offended. “Well enough to have a date with him.”

“And you’re a complete newbie?”

“I guess?”

“Jonathan Toews. Dating a newbie.” Ryan stares at Patrick, his mouth open. “I don’t believe it.”

“What do you mean? Why not?” Patrick asks a little sharply.

“Have you seen his videos? He’s an expert with guys who can take an obscene amount of pain, dude. He practically never dates. And I know for a fact that the only guys Jonny’s been serious about are super hardcore masochists. And really, really - like _really_  experienced in the scene.”

“They are?”

“Yes, they are,” Ryan sighs a little dreamily. “Apparently he’s a lot harder on them than he is in his videos, a lot kinkier.”

“Kinkier than his videos?” Patrick can’t imagine how much kinkier Jonny could be; the videos are already so hardcore.

“Yeah, he doesn’t want to get in trouble legally, or something, so he keeps it pretty tame on camera,” Ryan shrugs. “But with his real-life subs, off camera, he’s pretty extreme.”

“Oh.” Patrick looks down at the nipple clamps in his hand and grimaces. “Maybe I should get the clover clamps.”

“No!” Ryan grabs his arm. “Those are fine, you don’t need to pick the most hard core thing to impress Jonny. You have to go at your own pace.”

It’s exactly what Jonny’s said to Patrick on the phone throughout the past week, reassuring him that he didn’t expect Patrick to do things he’s not comfortable with or to speak up if they’re going too fast. Maybe the reason Jonny’s being so patient with him is probably just him be helpful, guiding Patrick through his sudden gay, masochistic interest. Maybe Patrick’s misinterpreted all of their back and forth over the last few days. The thought makes him a little nauseous.

“Anyway, the videos are all show.”

“Yeah?”

“For Jonny, anyway. Those are subs who’ve paid for the chance to have Jonny work them over,” Ryan says, waving a hand. “Haven’t you ever noticed that he never gets off in the videos?”

“I - “ Patrick stops to think about it and realizes that he hasn’t seen a video where Jonny jerks off, let alone actually fucks the guy he’s abusing.

“Hell, he doesn’t even get naked, just wears those stupid hot black boxer briefs. I’m not even sure he’s hard in half of them.”

Patrick blinks at Ryan. “You’re right…”

“Damn straight I am. So I say again, how did you end up getting a date with him?”

“He asked me out?” Patrick shrugs, uncomfortable at the way Ryan’s peering at him. “He’s kinda helping me figure all of this out.”

“Ah, well, that makes more sense,” Ryan nods. “Can’t see him dating someone as inexperienced as you. No offense, just the truth. He’s hardcore and so are all his exes.”

“Oh,” Patrick says and Ryan touches his arm sympathetically.

“Better you go in with your eyes open,” Ryan says firmly.

“Sure, sure,” Patrick smiles wanly. “Thanks.”

“Any time, sugar,” Ryan smiles, flirt back in force. “And hey, if you ever want someone to talk to about all of this, or Jonny, I’d be happy to help.”

“Listen, I told you - “

“Nah, I don’t mean it like that. I mean, yeah, I’d love to,” he looks Patrick up and down, “but I mean as a friend. A kinky fairy godfather.”

Mel snorts. “Fairy is right.”

“Here, give me your phone, and I’ll send myself a text,” Ryan commands, and Patrick eyes him dubiously for a second before pulling his phone out. His texts with Jonny are in the window and he pulls up a new message and hands it over.

Ryan types at it for a minute and then hands it back.

 _Patrick:_ Hi Ryan Hartman, this is the gorgeous newbie dating Jonathan Fucking Toews

Patrick's snorting at the phone when a message comes in.

 _Hottie Hartzy:_ Hi baby, it’s your fairy godfather. Let’s do lunch sometime.

“<i>Hottie Hartzy?</i> Is that your drag name?” Patrick asks with a grin.

“In her dreams,” Mel sing-songs.

“Whatever, I know I’m fabulous,” Ryan sniffs.

“Well, Hartzy,” Patrick says. “Thanks for the help. And the offer. I might take you up on it.”

“I hope you do,” Ryan says. “I hope you do.”

Patrick smiles and makes his way to the front counter, where Mel refuses his money  - </i>"Jonny told me to put it on his account"</i> \- and hands him a bright red bag. Patrick’s mind is turning over the things Ryan’s said to him, and he’s distracted when he thanks her, unsettled at how obvious it should’ve been that Jonny’s just taking him under his wing, not actually interested in anything more, anything like what Patrick’s quickly coming to realize he wants from Jonny.

He brushes Jonny off when he gets a text as he’s leaving the store; he’s going to be late for his rec league if he doesn’t get moving, and he thinks he can hear the El coming, so he dashes off a couple of quick texts and hoofs it, arriving at the rink just as Sharpy’s pulling up in his SUV with their equipment.

He puts thoughts of Jonny, his weird trip to the sex store, and Ryan’s words aside as he dresses for the game - the cock ring comes off easily now that he’s completely soft - and let's the feel of the ice under his skates wash away the last of the disquiet he’s felt since he left the Pleasure Chest. He even manages to slide the cock ring back on in the shower at the rink, the cold and presence of his teammates nearby helping keep him soft enough that it’s not painful at all.

It’s not until Patrick is in his room later - the door locked - that he opens the bag and realizes Mel included the Anal Beginner kit, two enema sets, and a flyer for an upcoming session on “Butt Sex Basics with Tania.” He stuffs all of it back in the bag and into a corner of his closet - the irony isn’t lost on him - except for the nipple clamps. They’re cool to the touch, and tight when he attaches them to the fleshy part of his hand between his thumb and forefinger. He winces when he turns the little screw another couple of notches. How are these things gonna feel on his nipples, he wonders, then shudders when he lets himself picture it.

He pulls his sweats down to look at his cock, it’s incredible how much bigger it looks inside the black plastic, his balls pushed forward and his cock more noticeable. He’s gonna have to wear his shirt untucked if he wears the ring to work and he thinks about texting Jonny to ask if he can have a reprieve. But knowing that he’s wearing it, because Jonny asked him to, and knowing that Jonny will _know_  he’s wearing it for him, warms Patrick from the inside. Leaving his phone on the nightstand, he just adjusts himself a little, wishing it were Friday night already and that Jonny were here with him, touching him, looking at him.

Patrick groans, falling back on the bed. It’s gonna be a long fucking night and a longer day tomorrow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the glossary of items used in this chapter (I'll try to do this for any sex toys I reference in the series)
> 
> Cock ring: <https://gearessentials.com/collections/cockrings/products/surgeblack-cock-ring>  
> Nipple clamps: <https://www.extremerestraints.com/nipple-toys_60/bauhaus-precision-nipple-clamps_6806.html>  
> Anal kit: <https://www.simplipleasure.com/collections/anal-sex-toys-kit/products/doc-johnson-juli-ashtons-anal-beginners-butt-plug-kit>  
> Pleasure Chest on Lincoln: [https://thepleasurechest.com/chicago-location](https://thepleasurechest.com/chicago-location/)


	6. Jonny's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief foray into Jonny's brain. And I've got The Date about 10% written, so I'm hoping posting this now will help spur me to finish it!

Jonny’s phone doesn’t chime with another text from Patrick after he sends the winky emoji, and he finds himself anxiously watching the front of the Pleasure Chest for Patrick to come out. Jonny’s been peeking at the door from in front of Pelly’s Liquors for long enough that the cashier in the store looks like he’s about to call the cops when Patrick finally emerges, over an hour after he went in.

Jonny jerks back from the edge of the building to avoid being seen, but Patrick has his head down and is hauling ass for the Brown Line entrance like the hounds of hell are on his heels. 

Jonny looks down at his phone, puzzled. Patrick hadn’t texted in almost half an hour but he was sure Patrick would’ve continued to send him impressions of the place, or ask questions. He always has questions. The silence - especially now that Jonny’s watched him leave the store in such a hurry - makes Jonny uneasy, so he quickly texts Patrick.

 _Jonny:_ How’s it going?

Jonny watches as Patrick jerks to a stop and looks down at his phone for a long time.

 _Jonny:_ Pat? Everything ok?

Patrick doesn’t respond, and Jonny’s about to call out to him, fuck this texting shit, when his phone dings.

 _Patrick:_ It’s good, I’m just late for something, ttyl

 _Jonny:_ I think we should talk about how it went, don’t you?

 _Patrick:_ Tomorrow, okay? I’m fine, really. Just can’t talk now

 _Jonny:_ Okay, but call me or whatever if you need to talk

 _Patrick:_ K

Patrick pockets his phone and jogs toward the subway, running up the stairs until he disappears out of Jonny’s view.

Jonny looks back down at his phone for a moment then turns toward the store, calling out for Mel as he walks in. She’s coming out of the changing room area, a bottle of disinfectant in one hand. “Hey, Jonny. You just missed your boy - he left like five minutes ago.”

“I know, I was watching from outside of Pelly’s.”

“Of course you were,” Mel says with a smirk.

“Did someone jerk off in the changing room?” Jonny eyes the disinfectant in Mel’s hands. “Wait, was it Patrick?” Maybe _that’s_ why he took off so fast and wouldn’t talk to Jonny; it’s a relief to think Patrick being embarrassed or feeling guilty might explain his weird behavior.

“Nah, I just do this every couple of hours, just in case,” Mel says and Jonny’s concern comes crashing back. “He came in, got the ring, spent about ten minutes in the changing room, then just browsed the store for a long time.”

“What did he choose?” Jonny asks, wondering if that’s what so clearly freaked Patrick out.

“Nuh uh, not telling,” Mel replies. “A boy’s entitled to a few secrets.”

“I paid for it, I think I have a right to know - “ Jonny protests.

“Not telling you,” Mel sing-songs.

“Mel,” Jonny narrows his gaze at her but she just blinks at him, unfazed. “Fine, whatever. Can you at least tell me if he seemed okay? He looked freaked out but he wouldn’t really talk to me when I texted him.”

“Yeah, that’s probably Ryan’s fault,” Mel says, nodding at where Ryan Hartman is emerging from the curtained area, a flush on his cheeks and a satisfied smile on his lips. 

“Ryan!” Mel’s face darkens. “You little _asshole!_ Did you jerk off in there? I just fucking cleaned that, you dick.” 

“Maybe,” Ryan says with a satisfied smirk.

“Jackass.” She picks up the cleaning supplies and shoves them into Ryan’s arms. “Go disinfect it yourself, I’m taking a smoke break.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Ryan says meekly, even though he doesn’t look at all abashed.

“And you!” Mel turns and points at Jonny.

“Me?” Jonny holds up his hands, glancing at Ryan out of the side of his eyes. “What’d I do?”

“You sent a baby sub in here and subjected him to this jackass, so you can just stay here and make sure he doesn’t fucking jerk off again.” She snatches her purse from behind the counter, muttering to herself. “I need to quit this job and find something at the mall. Something where I don’t have to check the fucking dressing rooms with a goddamned black light, for fuck’s sake.”

The door slams behind her and there’s a moment of quiet before Ryan says, “I guess I shouldn’t tell her about all the mall changing rooms where I’ve fucked, huh?”

“Probably not.” Jonny agrees dryly still looking at the closed door.

“So, I met Patrick,” Ryan says coyly after another long moment, and Jonny turns to him.

“I heard.” Jonny sighs. “Let’s go in the back and you can tell me what happened with you and Patrick while you clean up.”

“Oh, I love it when you order me around like that. Now tell me I’ve been a bad boy,” Ryan says, lips quirked, “and I’ll clean anything you want, Daddy.”

“I’m not your Daddy,” Jonny snaps, his concern for Patrick reducing his willingness to play along with Ryan’s brattiness. “Now move!”

“Wow, fine, be a dick about it,” Ryan snaps back, the simpering facade dropping away.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jonny sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m just - I’m worried about Patrick. He looked totally freaked out.”

“Mmm hmm,” Ryan says, eyeing him. 

“So tell me what happened?”

“Nope, sorry.” Ryan’s as bad as Mel, though, and won’t tell Jonny what Patrick bought, even when Jonny offers to let Ryan come watch him film a scene. All Ryan will admit is that he flirted with Patrick.

“He’s fucking gorgeous, of course I hit on him!”

“Ryan - “

“But his exact words were _I’m taken._ And he really didn’t like the idea that you and I had fucked.”

“But - we haven’t fucked! We haven’t even played!” Jonny explodes.

“I know, I know, settle down!” Ryan pouts. “And you don’t have to act like it’s beneath you.”

“It’s not that.” Jonny bites out. “Focus, Ryan. Did you make it clear that we’ve never fucked? Or did he go away thinking - “

“That his Dom isn’t a celibate virgin? Yeah, sorry, cat’s out of the bag on that one,” Ryan says, but when Jonny glares at him, he just shrugs. “Fine! I told him we’ve never fucked. But you’re focusing on the wrong part, dude.”

“Which part should I be focusing on?” Jonny’s finding this conversation increasingly hard to follow. His head is starting to ache, either from the violently red walls, or Ryan. Probably Ryan.

“The part where your little hottie was _jealous,_ thinking about you with other people, dummy,” Ryan says. “Didn’t seem to want to share you.”

“Jealous?” Jonny says skeptically. “Of a guy with his own video sex channel?”

“Yeah, I don’t get it either, I mean, the more the merrier, I always say,” Ryan shrugs. “But you know how clingy new subs are.”

“Yeah,” Jonny bites the inside of his cheek. “What else did he say about me?”

“Well, he seemed pretty into it when I told him how hard you play,” Ryan says after thinking a minute. “Seemed like it really turned him on, based on the evidence I was seeing, anyway. If you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” Patrick had seemed to be fairly enthusiastic about some of Jonny’s harder core videos. Jonny wonders if he should revise his play plan for their date tomorrow, ratchet it up a bit. He doesn’t want to disappoint Patrick after all the build up of the past week.

“Oh, and Mazel Tov, Jonny, Patrick looks like a very big boy,” Ryan says, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Ryan,” Jonny rubs his eyes tiredly. “What else did you two talk about?”

“Fine, fine. Umm… he’s all sorts of freaked about anal, fyi.” Ryan shrugs. “Straight guys, am I right?”

“Yeah,” Jonny agrees absently, following Ryan to the front of the store, waving goodbye to Mel, who’s on her phone just outside.

Jonny’s been battling with himself about whether Patrick - up until less than a week ago a decidedly straight man - was interested in him, or kink or both, and Ryan’s solidifying that this is probably mostly about the kink. He’s not shocked - Patrick flat out said he’s never been interested in men before.

But he’s definitely more than a little disappointed, he can admit to himself. He felt a real connection with Patrick as soon as they’d met at the bowling alley, drawn to the man who seemed both scared shitless and fearless at the same time. And then Patrick had seemed so into him. It hadn’t felt like the only thing he wanted from Jonny was to get smacked around and get off, although that was obviously a part of it. Then again, Patrick did tell Ryan he was dating Jonny. Jonny isn’t sure what to think.

Jonny’s never been great at relationships, and Brent’s been warning Jonny all week not to let himself get too into a guy he just met.

“That way lies heartache, Tazer,” Brent had said. Even Hossa had agreed.

“Probably not looking for boyfriend,” Marian had said from where he was wiping down the St. Andrews Cross. “Be careful or maybe you get hurt again.”

“Listen to us this time,” Brent added, pointing the crop he was sterilizing at Jonny. “We’re tired of feeding you that shitty vegan sorbet and handing you tissues after you’ve been hurt by men you had no business falling for.”

“Patrick’s not like those other guys!” Jonny’d protested, and then changed the subject. They didn’t get it, couldn’t see the way Patrick looked at him, hadn’t read their chats or heard the things they’d talked about. 

But now he wonders. Maybe they’re right to caution him. Maybe Jonny’s the one who can’t see, maybe Jonny’s the one who isn’t listening, and he’s only heard what he wants Patrick to be saying.

He spends the entire walk home from the Pleasure Chest re-reading Patrick’s texts and thinking about all of their conversations, turning them over in his head. It’s gonna be hard, but the conversation with Ryan is a reminder that he doesn’t really know Patrick that well yet. He knows he should try to distance himself from the feelings he’s having and focus on giving Patrick the experience he’s looking for without pressuring him for something he’s probably not ready for. 

He’s pretty sure that’s a losing cause, though, he thinks as he pictures Patrick’s face smiling at him, sweet and bright and gorgeous.

“You look dumb,” Brent says later as he watches Jonny gathering items out of the dungeon to use on Patrick.

“Fuck off,” Jonny replies, distracted. He’s searching through a drawer for a bullet vibrator he knows he put in the drawer a few days ago but he can’t find it. “Where’s the bullet? It was here yesterday.”

“I’m not sure, but try this. New Hot Octopus, came in today.” Marian’s been putting away a shipment they’d gotten that morning. He hands a small box to Jonny. “It comes with remote.” 

“Hmm,” Jonny says. The hands-free option always makes it easier to keep track of his partner’s reactions, something even more important with Patrick since he’s so new. “That might work.” 

“See, there it is again!” Brent says again, poking Jonny’s face. “You keep getting this little grin on your face.”

“My smile isn’t dumb!” Jonny protests.

“Not usually, no. This is, though. It’s not really a smile, more of a grin. Maybe? Whatever you call it, it looks almost sweet.” Brent shudders. “And kinda creepy.”

“Only you would think a sweet grin was creepy, you weirdo.” Jonny ignores the heat creeping into his face. “Now go away so I can finish getting everything ready for tomorrow.”

Brent watches contemplatively as Jonny closes up the cabinet he’d been rifling through. “But, for real, Jon,” Brent says, picking up the Hot Octopus box and tossing it from one hand to another, his tone a little more serious. “Just - you’re being careful, right?”

“I’m literally on my way to the autoclave,” Jonny says, gesturing with the basket of toys he’s picked out.

“I didn’t ask if you were being safe, I asked if you were being _careful_ ,” Brent sighs. “Just - this guy’s totally turned your head.”

“He has not, I just. Like him, is all.”

“And I’m glad, but, you know. Leaving aside the kink, he was straight until like five minutes ago.”

“Kissing me like he did - he’s not that straight,” Jonny says firmly.

“Jonny.”

“Fine, fine, I know what you mean, and yeah, I’m being careful.” As careful as he can, anyway, when he’s halfway to falling for Patrick. “He’s a good guy, I promise. It’s gonna be fine.”

“Good,” Brent slaps Jonny on the back, once and then again, harder. “You gonna tell me what you’re plotting for him?” He leans forward to peer into the basket and Jonny yanks it back. “Come on, don’t be like that! You always tell us what you’re gonna do to your subs!”

“This is private,”Jonny says firmly. 

“There’s that look again,” Brent starts and Jonny spins on his heel.

“I’m going to the autoclave now. You’re not invited.”

Jonny’s glad Brent finally takes the hint and leaves him alone because he can definitely feel a smile breaking across his face as he walks away.

And Jonny’s very afraid that it’s not a stupid grin, but more of a stupidly besotted one.


End file.
